


Obsessions

by CyanAndCharcoal



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Past, Dubious Morality, F/M, Female Protagonist, Fluff and Smut, Manipulation, Power Play, Pre-Canon, Rivalry, Sex, Smut, Threats of Violence, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 20:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 73,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanAndCharcoal/pseuds/CyanAndCharcoal
Summary: Delilah Lopez joins the Van Der Linde gang in search of a more inspiring criminal career than pickpocketing. But this proves difficult when you have a questionable past to hide, are competing with the gang’s existing members, and have an old friend who is so interested in your life he just won’t leave you alone.Not canon complaint as the timeline doesn’t work with events both in and before RDR 2.Rating applies to the later chapters that haven’t yet been written.





	1. State Of Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> I have already written the first seven chapters, so those will be published quickly with much longer time gaps in between the remaining chapters as they take a while to write. 
> 
> Chapter titles are all taken from songs by my current favourite singers: Marina, Lana Del Rey, Nelly Furtado, Lady Gaga and Alexandra Stan. If they don’t seem to relate to the chapters, it’s the song lyrics that do.
> 
> For the sake of this story the gang are currently camping at Horseshoe Overlook although in game they clearly haven’t been in the area before the Blackwater massacre (with the exception of Hosea), hence why this is not canon compliant.

Was it possible to be insane without knowing it? Then again, an insane person would never see their self as insane - just somewhat eccentric, controversial, or ahead (or behind, in some views) of their time. But what did it matter? Delilah hardly ever found herself in polite society anyway. Human company got under her skin like a disease. It wasn’t that she was anti-social or anything, merely cynical. Or was everyone just stupid?

No, of course not. She was the only stupid one. Never putting in the effort to see a good side to the world. Sitting in the same dull living room day after day and gazing at the plain but pretty walls as though they made the four corners of the earth. Maybe it really was time to try again. Go into Valentine and have a drink, start a bar fight, best case scenario: get shot. At least it would be a change. Better than waiting for the inevitable.

  
Untangling herself from the armchair she had entwined herself with, Delilah headed to the room she had claimed as her own on the top floor of the house. A double bed that always felt so eerie to sleep in, as if there ought to be some ghostly presence next to her to restore balance to the world. A wardrobe filled with mainly masculine clothing. Quite frankly, she didn’t own a dress or a skirt. Not only because they were inconvenient for fighting and attracted attention, but also because she didn’t have money to be spending on such commodities, and there wasn’t even a tailor in Valentine. She could never leave her own little sphere of influence, preferring to stick with the territory she recognised.

Every day was the same: go into town, pickpocket some perfectly innocent individuals, buy food, return to the house and eat it (with occasional hunting and shooting practice thrown in). It was pathetic, and Delilah hated it. Hated how she would never lift a finger to change her ways, always playing it safe, never even looking for a decent reason to live. And it had to end.

  
She buttoned up the cotton blue shirt she was wearing and fastened her ammunition belt and holster around her waist. The aesthetic was easily completed with a thick wool jacket, wide brimmed hat and boots. Her dark hair was often an inconvenience, and so she tied her signature braid before venturing outside her castle walls.

  
A sharp whistle brought her horse, Lorelei, cantering to her side and happily accepting the offer of a free carrot. “Hey girl.”

The horse lowered its head obligingly as Delilah reached out a hand to stroke it. “Ready for another hard day’s work?” A snort. “My thoughts exactly.”

  
She climbed on with difficulty and then nudged her loyal steed in the direction of Valentine, the local livestock town, and one which, at this rate, would soon be experiencing a financial crisis.

Hitching her horse outside the main Valentine saloon, Delilah made her way inside and seated herself at the bar. The chatter, insults and drunkenness quickly became white noise as she ordered a drink of her own. Alcohol had taken some getting used to, but now it was like a friend from a foreign land. One which will always somehow be unfamiliar, and yet you can’t help feeling happy to see them. Only one drink though. Every dollar was precious to her. But so easily thrown away.

  
With the renewed confidence that alcohol had blessed her with, Delilah glanced around the saloon for potential robbery targets. It was easy enough, especially if they were drunk. Start some polite conversation, and while they wondered whether or not she would be happy to sleep with them, extract whatever they had in their pockets. It wasn’t second nature though. There was one time she had been caught in the act. Delilah could still feel his stinging grip on her wrist as he had dragged her from the shop and through the mud.

  
Three women entered the saloon. All wearing typical working clothes, and yet there was something different about these three. They were too chatty, too confident. Delilah lowered her head as they sat next to her at the bar.

  
One with blond hair coming down to her shoulders ordered three whiskeys. “Must say, I’m not a big fan of this country. Or this town for that matter. Whoever decided to call it Valentine clearly never visited this miserable hovel.” She downed the whiskey at once and ordered another.

  
“Easy on the drink, Karen,” the black girl said. Delilah was still trying to work out what these three had in common. Friends, clearly. But why? What could these three - Karen/alcoholic in training, sensible and considerate, and incredibly shy - have in common? She’d never seen them in town before, and they talked like they had only just moved down here.

  
What if they were on the run? From what? A crime, obviously. They weren’t known criminals, at least not in these parts. But Delilah’s questions were all soon answered.

  
The shy one decided to speak up. “So...” she coughed deliberately, “Do you think Dutch has plans for this town?”

  
Karen gave her a withering look. “If he doesn’t, he wouldn’t be much of a leader. He promises to give us food, money, and safety and he’s never failed to deliver on one of his promises this far. Don’t you worry, Mary-Beth, there will be plenty of innocent folk to rob soon enough.”

  
So they were part of a gang! It made sense, Delilah guessed, but a gang that allowed female members was practically unheard of. And the faith Karen had in their leader - Dutch - was certainly remarkable. It wasn’t just any gang out to steal and kill. This gang seemed to have a stronger bond.

  
And much to her surprise, it was a concept Delilah found herself liking. Would this gang welcome someone like her though? Someone so...strange?

  
She returned to reality to see that the three women were leaving. Without a second thought, she got up and followed them. They headed along the street to a wagon parked outside the gunsmith shop. A man who could only be described as a gunslinger was loading it with crates of ammunition he had just purchased. When he saw them approaching he looked up and waved. Delilah didn’t want to risk getting too close, so instead she headed back to Lorelei, well aware that the mini posse would soon be leaving.

  
And so they did. Out of Valentine and along the main road for several minutes, before turning off the road and heading into a clump of trees. She could see them laughing and even singing - they were so engrossed they never turned to notice the monoprint of a spectre riding a horse behind them.

  
As soon as they turned into the trees, Delilah dismounted and followed them, crouching low before finding a suitable bush to crawl into and observe the surroundings. A man with ginger hair and a rifle stood guard not far ahead, and on top of the hill was an unmistakable campsite. There were quite a few tents, but this was either a very small gang or they probably had other camps elsewhere. The most prominent gang in the area, the O’Driscolls, were suspected to be several hundred in number. This camp didn’t look like it had more than twenty people within it, but definitely far more than ten. O’Driscoll groups weren’t usually so large.

  
Delilah bit her tongue and she watched the girls dismount the wagon and several people hurry over to help carry the crates. Her assumptions had been correct. They were like a family. And the moment she saw them like this, she knew she would never be them. She might become like them, but she would never be them. And yet...this was exactly what she had been looking for. A significant change to alter her perspective on life and herself.

  
How to approach them? Well, it didn’t seem like there was anything to do but walk right up the path to the guard if she wanted to make it clear that she wasn’t hostile. And what to say? Well, she’d work it out.

  
Removing herself from the relative safety of the bush, Delilah edged back so as to make it look like she had just wandered down the path rather than planned her move so thoroughly. She walked with such confidence that it actually took the guard a few seconds to realise he didn’t know her. When he did, he jumped visibly and gripped his rifle more tightly.

  
“Hold it there!” He had a very strong Irish accent. “Who are you?”

  
“My name’s Delilah. This will sound unusual, but...are you people a gang?”

  
“What?”

  
“Are you a gang?”

  
“I’m quite sure that a gang requires more than one person, so no ma’am, I am not a gang.”

  
Oh my. If this is how he’s going to be, this conversation will last a while.

  
“Alright then. I have good reason to believe the camp you’re guarding is the hideout of a gang led by someone named Dutch. I am interested in joining your gang, and would very much appreciate it if you introduced me to this Dutch.”

  
By this point another gang member had appeared at the top of the hill. He seemed to have grey hair. “What’s all this, Sean?”

  
“This lady says she wants to join the gang, Hosea!”

  
The man hurried down the hill and looked quizzically at Delilah for a while.

  
“Hello Miss. Hosea Matthews, it’s a pleasure. If I may ask, how did you come to learn of our campsite?”

  
“One of your men and three girls were just in Valentine. I overheard the girls talking about your gang in the Valentine saloon, and it was something I was interested in, so I followed them back here.”

  
Hosea tutted and shook his head. “Those girls really ought to be more careful. Sometimes I think they forget that we are wanted criminals on the run.”

  
“Ah, it was Karen, no doubt,” Sean chimed in, “always opening her mouth when she shouldn’t. You know, my da used to say-“

  
“Another time, thank you Sean.” Hosea turned back to Delilah. “Follow me please Miss.”

  
The three of them walked into camp, followed by a series of compulsory head turnings and mutterings. They really didn’t look like you would expect a gang to look. Obviously there were weapons and boxes of ammunition, but there were also a few card games going on, a large pot of stew simmering with a devotion it would be hard to find in most common gangs, and being tasted by all, men and women alike. It was quick glances and peripheral vision that told Delilah this much, as she didn’t want to risk making eye contact with anyone.

  
The miniature parade ended in front of the largest tent, and a dark haired, moustached man wearing an incredibly intricate waistcoat of a deep red and lush black trousers and boots. Undoubtedly the leader.

  
He stood up as they approached. “And who might this be?”

  
“She wants to join us, Dutch.” Hosea went to stand at Dutch’s side. They were clearly close friends - the founders of this gang, Delilah was willing to bet.  
Dutch looked at her for a while without saying anything. It was hard to fathom what he was thinking. Was he thinking that someone like her, armed and clearly keen to rob and murder, would be a helpful addition, or did he see beyond that to the uncontrolled aggression buried behind her opaque muddy pupils?

  
Eventually Dutch said, “leave us Sean.” The Irish ginger nodded and headed back to his observation post. Hosea beckoned her into the tent and indicated that she should sit down on the bed.

  
“What was your name again?”

  
“Delilah. Delilah Lopez.”

  
Dutch took over from there. “And how did you come to learn of this gang?”

  
Hosea answered that question for her. “She overheard the girls talking in Valentine.”

  
“I see. Do you live in Valentine?”

  
“Just outside it.”

  
“And how old are you?”

  
Delilah frowned. “Is that relevant?”

  
“It could be.”

  
“I’m twenty two.”

  
She could tell by the looks on their faces that neither of them believed her. She had always thought the hat and coat made her look older, but apparently not old enough. Luckily for her they didn’t question her answer further.

  
“I assume based on the fact that you’re armed that you’ve committed a felony before?”

  
“Well, yes.”

  
“What felony, specifically?”

  
“I’ve pickpocketed people.”

  
“Have you ever used a gun?”

  
“Not on a person. At least not yet. But I’d be perfectly happy to. I practice shooting every day and have no problems with killing.”

  
Hosea bit his lip and stepped forward. He was obviously suspecting that Delilah might not be the most compassionate person he’d ever met.

  
“Miss Lopez, we aren’t just any gang of lowdown criminals. We are a family, and we have our own code. We only rob those rich enough not to miss the money, and we believe in helping the less fortunate folk. So if you’re looking for easy money, this might not be the gang for you.”

  
“I guessed that based on the girls’ conversation. That was what interested me in this gang. I don’t believe in killing without a good reason, and in some ways...I think this could be a second chance for me. Maybe this gang will show me that there is hope for a better life.”

  
There were a few awkward seconds of silence before Dutch clapped his hands together joyfully. “I love that! She’s a kindred spirit if ever I met one, Hosea!” He beamed at Hosea, who wasn’t looking nearly so sure. “Miss Lopez, this gang welcomes you with open arms! You will, of course, be expected to contribute to our collective savings, and I must also warn you that should you join us, you must stay here with us in camp as we move when necessary, meaning you are unlikely to return to your current residence ever again.”

  
“I understand. If you just give me some time to collect my possessions, I’ll be back here in two hours.”

  
Dutch took her hand and pulled Delilah to her feet. “The Van der Linde gang welcomes you, Miss Lopez. I hope you find the home you’re looking for here. Let me just introduce you to your future family, and you can be on your way.”

  
As they stepped out the tent, Dutch raised his voice and called out “listen up folks! I am pleased to welcome Miss Delilah Lopez to our family! Treat her kindly and I’m sure she will do the same. Now back to work!”

  
Delilah hurried in the direction of Lorelei, eager to avoid any questions or small talk, but her path was blocked by a reasonably old woman with her brown hair tied back in a massive bun.

  
“And where are you going, young lady?”

  
“Sorry, who are you?”

  
The woman pointed a threatening finger at her. “I’ll teach you to speak with more respect, Miss. Miss Grimshaw is my name, and if you have any sense you’ll learn to fear it. In this gang everyone works to earn a living, so you will be doing daily chores just like the rest of us. So get over there right now, and assist Mr Pearson with cooking more stew, assuming you can cook.”

  
“I’ll do that as soon as I come back with my stuff.”

  
Miss Grimshaw scoffed and left her alone. Delilah could feel the weight lifting from her chest as she walked back towards her horse at speed. By the time she reached Lorelei, she was nearly running. Why was she like this with people? It didn’t matter, but if she wanted to survive in this gang, she would have to change.

*****

As Delilah cantered back towards the house she had claimed as her own, she tried to savour everything she could sense around her. The gentle breeze, the noise of Valentine, the silhouette of the ominous yet ethereal Grizzly mountains in the distance. She really hoped to go up there one day. It was one of those experiences that someone should have at least once in a lifetime - a pilgrimage of sorts. Then again, the thought of the Grizzlies was often accompanied with connotations of bear attacks, an experience most people were only _capable_ of having once in a lifetime. Hardly an hour ago, such a thought would have thrilled her. But now it really was time to get more logical and start thinking about others as well as herself.

It would be challenging, given that she had lived nearly all her teenage years as a recluse, robbing people to survive and passing the time with absentminded doodles and lazy poetry. It was something she had tried - creativity as an honest pastime. Of course, what little she had been inspired to write hadn’t been approved of. Whether it was her dark perspective on the world, the fact she was female (despite attempting to publish under a male pseudonym) or because she had walked into the publicist’s armed to the teeth? She would never know.

  
It wasn’t in Valentine she had tried to get her work, if it could even be called that, published. Delilah had to ride all the way down to Blackwater and stay the night at the hotel. The whole procedure exhausted her so much she had wanted to kill someone by the end of it, but instead she channeled the hatred into motivation to rob, and returned to Valentine decided on her future career.

  
With Valentine behind her, Delilah encouraged Lorelei up a steep path into the hills. Here the trees were so tight it was easy to feel suffocated. She hardly ever rode at night, but when she did, she couldn’t help looking behind her every two seconds to see if the glistening eyes of a cougar were staring back.

  
In summary: life had been terrifying as well as dull and unproductive. Now Delilah had a chance to change that, and she wasn’t planning on messing it up.

Hitching Lorelei up outside, she entered the outwardly derelict but inwardly somewhat luxurious house and headed straight upstairs. Taking a bag of a disgusting colour (it looked like a mixture of pus and horse manure) from the wardrobe, she folded a selection of warm jackets, shirts, trousers and other clothing essentials and stacked them inside, along with a few pairs of socks and her nicer pair of shoes. This was followed by her journal, quill, ink, a small box from her bedside table and several rifles (she had plenty of ammo on her belt and even more in Lorelei’s saddlebags). That was it really. She never saw the need to own something you weren’t going to use.

  
Heading downstairs with the bag, Delilah grabbed an armful of food from the cupboard and piled it in. She could remember very distinctly that there was a camp cook - which was exactly what she was afraid of. She lodged an apple in between her teeth and gave the other to Lorelei as her stroked her back, turning to face the house.

  
“Take a good last look girl. We might never see this old place again.”

  
It was hard to say whether the horse understood. The slow chomping of the apple could be interpreted as either respectful or as savouring the taste. Didn’t matter. Delilah climbed on and dug her legs into the horse’s sides, wondering what lay ahead for her. Adventure, fortune, pain, suffering, boredom...it really was just a spin of the wheel. She could only hope that as her unlucky streak had been lasting for so long, that it would be her lucky day this time round.

Returning to the camp, Delilah got a few stares but not quite as many as she had expected. They had already accepted her, or so it would seem.

  
You’d better enjoy it while it lasts, she told herself.

  
As much as she didn’t want to, she headed towards Miss Grimshaw. “Where should I put my things?”

  
Th woman pointed a wrinkled but strong finger. “Under the shelter over there, with the other girls. Once you’re set up, go and help Mr Pearson with the soup.”

  
This Delilah did. She set her bag down on a makeshift table, right next to where someone had kindly placed a new bedroll. Another girl nearby - one of the ones from the saloon - looked up from her book as she started unpacking.

  
“Hi, I’m Mary-Beth. Delilah, right?”

  
“Yes. Hello, Mary-Beth. Have you been with this gang for a while?”

  
“Oh, years. They’re like family to me. I was an orphan, but then I found them - or they found me, I guess you could look at it either way. But here I am, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” She looked surprised as Delilah unfastened her ammunition belt and holster and placed them by her bag. “Wow. Do you shoot?”

  
“Yep. Been practicing for several years.”

  
“Are you a...gunslinger, or something like that?” Mary-Beth laughed nervously.

  
“Not really. I just wanted to be ready to defend myself.”

  
Mary-Beth frowned slightly as she looked at Delilah. “I feel like I know you from somewhere-“

  
“That would be the Valentine saloon. I was at the bar next to you and the other girls when I heard you talking about this gang.”

  
The girl sighed. “Oh. Right. We really should be more careful.” Her eyes suddenly lit up as she saw Delilah take her journal out her bag. “Do you like to read too?”

  
“Yes, but I don’t read nearly as much as I used to. This is just my journal. I’d be happy to take any of your recommendations though. What books do you read?”

  
“Romance, mostly. I know they’re stupid and unrealistic and love probably doesn’t even work like that anyway, but a girl can dream.” She looked down at the book she was holding with reverence. “You can have this one as soon as I’m finished with it. Not that you’ll have much time to read. Miss Grimshaw keeps a very sharp eye on people round here. If she thinks for even a second that you’re not working as hard as you could be-“

  
“Well, well, it’s the new girl.” The blonde girl from the bar - the one who had been drinking a lot - was heading towards Delilah with an outstretched hand, which she shook. “Karen Jones. Pleasure to meet you, Delilah. Always nice to have a new ally around here.”

  
“I’m sure it is.”

  
“Miss Grimshaw seems to have forgotten you for now, so if you want I could give you people’s names?”

  
“That’d be lovely, thanks.”

  
“Well follow me then.”

  
Karen led her towards a black girl washing clothes. As she looked up, Delilah recognised her as the third girl from the bar.

  
The girl stood up. “Hi, Delilah, right?”

  
“I’m afraid so.”

  
“I’m Tilly.” They shook hands too. “It’s great to have another woman around here.”

  
Karen chimed in. “Oh, you aren’t kidding. Things have been exasperatingly dull lately. We hardly ever get to go on any exciting heists or robberies, and so we’re stuck here all day, doing chores for Grimshaw. You’ll be wishing you hadn’t joined us in no time.”

  
Although she was obviously being sarcastic about the last part, Delilah was seriously starting to consider it. The whole reason she had wanted to join a gang - the fact that it was a relatively decent one was just a bonus - was distraction, excitement, everything she had been missing when she would just wake up, pickpocket and get back home. The fact was, if she wanted to prove she was worth taking on any significant criminal activities, she was going to have to prove herself, and Grimshaw didn’t seem keen on letting her have the opportunity.

  
Unaware of her thoughts, Karen continued pointing people out.

“Over there we have John Marston, who looks like he’s arguing with Abigail.” She noticed Delilah’s eyes falling on the young child sitting not far from Abigail. “Yes, that’s her son, Jack. By John, or so she claims.” She said those last few words very quietly but quickly felt the need to explain herself. “Oh trust me, I’m not being judgemental or anything. Abigail’s lovely, and I’m no better myself. She used to be a prostitute, but ever since Jack was born, she’s changed. She’s all focused on being a mother and can’t really understand why John doesn’t want to be a father to the boy. Tensions are always high between those two nowadays, and it’s hard to say if they actually have any feelings for each other.” She shrugged. “But I’m supposed to be familiarising you with the names, not spreading the latest gossip.”

Karen pointed as she listed the next few names. “Javier is the Mexican one, next to him is Bill, then Arthur and Uncle - that’s not his real name, it’s just what everyone calls him, and he’s annoying enough to be one too - and then Mr Pearson, the camp cook, who’s talking to Charles, the Indian, and then-“ Karen stopped talking abruptly and her face twisted into a sour expression as she took in the next person.

Delilah followed her gaze and saw a surprisingly well dressed woman for a gang. She had very strong ginger hair and a dress made of dark green fabric that could have been worth more than two hundred dollars.

  
“Who’s that and what did she do to you?”

  
“It’s Molly O’Shea,” offered Tilly, since Karen was still staring in disgust. “I have nothing against her, but she and Karen never really got on.”

  
“Well that’s an understatement,” replied Karen with scorn, “ever since she started dating Dutch she’s been acting like she owns the camp. And have you ever seen her do a single piece of work? All she does is stand there fixing her hair and makeup all day and living off others’ work.” She folded her arms and shook her head for a while. “I’m surprised Grimshaw hasn’t picked up on it.”

  
“She probably has,” said Tilly, “she just has so much admiration for Dutch she doesn’t want to risk offending him.”

  
Karen sighed. “I don’t know. She definitely doesn’t worry about our feelings.” She shook her head and turned back to Delilah. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re here. You are rather quiet.”

  
Delilah shrugged. “I lived alone for years before today. I’m just not used to company. I’m not even sure I could carry on a normal conversation if I tried.”

  
“That must have been so lonely,” said Tilly sympathetically.

  
Delilah shrugged. “It was, in a sense. But it taught me to look after myself, gave me space to learn survival skills that I wouldn’t otherwise have been allowed to. I wasn’t that good with people before my self-imposed exile anyway.”

  
Tilly placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Well, you’ll always have friends in us, and we’ll always be here whenever you want to talk.”

  
“Thanks, Tilly. You’re too sweet for a gang like this.”

  
Tilly laughed. “I was definitely too sweet for my previous gang, I can tell you that.” The thought seemed to strike the smile from her face. “Are you going to finish the introductions, Karen?”

  
But Karen was staring past them at Sean, the ginger haired Irish boy. He was making hand signals to suggest he wanted to talk to her. She rolled her eyes, muttered some apologies and walked over to him.

  
“Have those two broken up or something?”

  
Tilly was confused. “How did you know that?”

  
“I didn’t know, I guessed.”

  
“You guessed correctly. They have a weird relationship. On-off, I suppose you could say. It’s hard to tell whether they really love each other or if it’s - well, you know...”

  
Delilah felt like she should change the subject, for her sake as well as Tilly’s. Within their less than five minute conversation, she had already heard of three romantic relationships within this gang. The thought had always made her intensely uncomfortable. She had always hated human company. Lorelei was her only true friend, and her horse had the extreme advantage of not actually understanding what she said (word for word, at least). The thought of spending so much time with another person, having to discuss your every emotion and worry, was just...suffocating to her. Delilah enjoyed the freedom of independence, and it was one she intended to keep, despite partially forfeiting it by joining a gang of criminals that seemed to have hearts. No ordinary human could ever love her.

  
“Who are those three?”

  
“The Callander boys, Davey and Mac, and Reverend Swanson.”

  
“A Reverend? What’s he doing here?”

  
“I honestly don’t know why he joined us. I heard him blabbering something about redemption when he was drunk-“ Noticing Delilah’s eyebrows travelling up her forehead, she gave up trying to justify Swanson. “He has some serious issues. An alcoholic and I suspect he’s addicted to morphine too. But for his sake, I hope he gets through it. He’s a good man.”

  
Delilah considered making a sarcastic comment along the lines of, “if he counts as a good man, I’d shudder to see the definition of pure evil” but didn’t want to put herself forward for that title, so instead just said “so what’s this gang up to right now?”

  
Tilly shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong person. I’m as much in the dark as you are about these things. I think Lenny and Jenny are out scouting a potential home robbery up near the mountains right now, but you can ask them when they return.”

  
Delilah cut the conversation short with a brief nod when she saw Miss Grimshaw narrow her eyes in her direction. “Lovely talking to you, Tilly. But I need to go now.”

  
“Oh, I understand.”

  
She fast walked towards Pearson’s wagon. “Mr Pearson? Miss Grimshaw asked me to help you with the soup.”

  
The fat old cook laughed. “Miss Grimshaw doesn’t ask, she tells. But I appreciate the assistance. Could you chop the vegetables over there please?”

  
This she did. Looking around at the food supplies, Delilah saw there wasn’t much. “Do you need someone to go into town and buy food?”

  
Pearson sighed gratefully. “That would be lovely. Some people went into town today, but the store was low on food and said they’d be stocking up again tomorrow. I keep reminding people that they need to hunt if we want to eat, but somehow it just never sticks. If you’re volunteering yourself for the task, I have a full list of everything we need over there.” He pointed to a side table.

  
“I’ll do it as soon as I shake Miss Grimshaw.”

  
Pearson laughed. “Rather enthusiastic, aren’t you? Didn’t you only just show up?”

  
Delilah shrugged. “I want to do everything I can to help these people. Plus, I can shoot just as well as anyone else here. Hunt, too. I could easily kill a deer or rabbit if we need meat.”

  
Pearson held up a hand. “Hold your horses, I never said anything about you hunting. There’ll be plenty of jobs to do here as it is.”

  
“Alright.” Delilah chopped her way through two carrots before she risked broaching the subject of leaving camp again. “Do you think I would be able to get involved with whatever...jobs the gang has going on right now?”

  
“Well, your enthusiasm definitely can’t be questioned, but I doubt Dutch will allow it. For all he knows, you can’t shoot a bottle two feet in front of your face.”

  
Delilah frowned. “So, I won’t be allowed to go on jobs because I might be useless, but I won’t be allowed out to prove I’m not useless?”

  
Pearson shrugged, said “you’ll get your chance,” and that was the end of the conversation.

*****

The rest of the afternoon was spent doing painfully mundane chores. By the end of it, Delilah wanted to slit her wrists with one of her poisoned knives. She had spent at least an hour helping Pearson cook, then had washed enough dirty clothes to knock out a grown man. Just when she thought she might get a break, Miss Grimshaw marched over and told her to tend to the scout campfire. Delilah then made the mistake of muttering “why can’t the scouts tend to the scout campfire” a little too loudly. Miss Grimshaw’s head snapped round like a bolt and she brought a strong hand down on Delilah’s shoulder.

  
“Listen young lady, if you want to survive in this gang, you will work for a living. We didn’t get where we are today by being slovenly and deluded enough to believe that things will turn out just the way we want them to without putting hard work and toil in. I’ve killed people that betrayed this gang, and I’d happily do so again. Get to work, now.”

  
Delilah wasn’t having it. “‘Betrayed’ this gang?”

  
“Laziness is a betrayal. A betrayal of the trust we put in you and the familial bond of love and compassion we share.”

She snapped her fingers in the direction of the scout campfire, and Delilah headed in that direction, picking up some chopped logs nearby. A betrayal it may be, but at that moment the only thing she was prepared to do with a bond of love and compassion was loop it around Miss Grimshaw’s neck and pull it tight.

Dumping the logs on the fire unceremoniously, she nudged them into position with the tip of her boot and sat down on one of the stools. Delilah looked directly into the flames, unafraid of the consequences. The colours had always fascinated her, as had the concept. An all consuming force that would devour human and animal flesh alike, yet could provide reassurance for both, in both its appearance and warmth.

Bored, Delilah hurried back to her bedding and grabbed her journal, quill and ink from where they lay. Seating herself by the fire once more, she opened and read back through her previous pages.  
The first few pages had started off as a diary. Simple, factual descriptions of what the day in question had held for her.

Before long Delilah realised how stupid it was. What was the point of having something to remember your past by when all it had conveyed was misery? And if she wasn’t going to read it, who would? It wasn’t like when she died she would be famous, be it on the cover of a dime novel or an anagram of her name on the cover of a poetry book. Perhaps at one point Delilah had entertained herself with the idea that she might be. Then it occurred to her how hypocritical it was, that she willingly hid from the world but was so desperate to be noticed by it. It made her hate herself and her life even more.

  
So Delilah dropped the diary entries and tried drawing. Before long she saw she was a lost cause. Her proportions were all over the place and she couldn’t even tell what her own drawings were of when she came back to look at them weeks later. It was a waste of time and ink. So she moved on to the next potential hobby on her list: poetry.

  
Of their own will, Delilah’s fingers guided her to her first poem. She never named them, just wrote whatever rubbish came into her head in the most fancy, cryptic way she could think of.

  
Oh me oh my, how time can fly  
When I told him I was baking cherry pie  
I gave him porcelain plates, knife, fork and spoon  
Sage and lime lest he should swoon

He wanted sand, but that was too much  
When I dropped the bowl I felt his touch  
Along my neck, atop my hair  
Well well well my maiden fair

Your hands are rugged, your arms weak and bony  
At an auction I wouldn’t sell you for more than three dollars sixty  
How could I have been so foolish as to think  
That you could make me a cherry pie pink

And so I threw my pie onto the black soil  
Where the blue birds that had been my foil  
Gobbled it up up up like a big cat would  
I readied my fourth piece of silver, and there stood

Now I have a new boa blue  
It stands around my neck good and true  
Oh me oh my oh my oh me  
I’d sell me for twelve dollars fifty

  
Quite frankly, Delilah had got lost in the moment when writing that one. Like most of her poetry, it got quite dark. Like the next one, which had been lazier but still ominous. Then again, it was the only way she knew.

  
to Mourn is to care, to regret is to Understand  
Red was her hair, as Dark as a rose  
under the Elm tree was her favourite place  
and only fitting that Respect should be paid  
her Eulogy shall be written in history  
with every sunset let us Remember her red mane

  
It was fun. Other than that, she was still in the same place that she had been with the diary entries. But writing them made her feel better. Delilah doubted she’d ever understand why.

  
The cantering of hooves aroused her from her reading. From the scout campfire she had a good view of two people approaching on horses. Judging by the cheery waves and smiles they gave the gang members hurrying to greet them, they must be Lenny and Jenny. Lenny was a cheerful black boy who grinned with pride as Dutch came over to greet him. Jenny was smiling too. She had long dark hair not unlike Delilah’s.  
Delilah joined the crowd coming to talk to the new arrivals, just in time to hear Dutch say to Lenny, “so what did you and young Jenny here learn?”

  
“I think we can hit it now, Dutch,” replied Lenny, “the whole family, father and his two sons, just went out hunting some huge bear that’s been spotted in the Grizzlies. They won’t be back for ages.”

  
“Good, let’s go then. Good work you two. Bill, Javier and Lenny, you’re with me. Let’s ride!”

  
Delilah watched as the four men mounted their horses and were soon lost from sight in the trees in front of them. That was what she wanted to be doing. Robbing people to earn her keep, not sit around in camp and cook food all day. She really had nothing to do now. Miss Grimshaw seemed to have given up on reprimanding her, and so she could at least do what she wanted for the rest of the evening before dinner.

Heading back to the place she would be sleeping that night, Delilah slumped down and stared up at the darkening evening sky. Mainly a greyish purple, with hints of pink hiding around the clouds’ edges. It was beautiful, she wasn’t going to deny that.

  
“Deep in thought there?” The sweet, feminine voice of Mary-Beth interrupted her.

  
“I guess.” Delilah sat up. “The sky looks amazing at this time of day, doesn’t it?”

  
“Definitely. It looks so...so...”

  
“Romantic?”

  
Mary-Beth laughed. “Don’t make fun of me! But it does, in a way.”

  
“Everything could be considered romantic. In a way.”

  
She frowned. “Murder isn’t romantic.”

  
“What if you’re killing for someone you love?”

  
“Well, even then, the so called romance of the gesture would be overshadowed by the horror of the murder.”

  
Delilah shrugged. “If you say so.”

*****

Dinner that evening was yet another pot of stew, only with some cheese on the side this time and herbs for flavouring. Delilah finished hers in less than five minutes; Pearson’s stew was surprisingly good, despite her initial reservations about allowing someone else to cook her every meal, and it did wonders against the cold that was tearing at her skin.

Depositing the bowl and spoon near the trough of water that was used for washing up, she headed back towards her bedding. As she passed one of the circular tables, Karen called out, “want to join us for a few rounds of poker?”

  
Delilah looked over at them. Karen, Sean, John and Hosea were all seated round the table, holding two cards. Normally she would say yes to such an invitation, but tonight she had a good reason for getting to sleep early.

  
“No, thanks. Maybe another time.”

  
Karen shrugged and went back to muttering competitive insults. Delilah lay down, making sure her pistol, rifle and belt were positioned so that she could reach them if necessary. She then pulled the blanket over her as tightly as possible. Definitely a step down from the double bed in an actual house with an actual duvet, but criminals couldn’t be choosers.

  
She got to sleep remarkably quickly, given the light and noise only a few metres away. It was probably the guarantee that no one would attack or rob her while she was sleeping, a feeling that was practically unknown to her.  
Delilah fell asleep with a smile on her face, knowing that tomorrow, she would give the Van der Linde gang reason to not only include her, but also respect her.

*****

She awoke at around five in the morning, as the golden watch attached to her belt told her. Given that she had fallen asleep around nine, that wasn’t bad at all. Pretty good by her standards.

  
As quietly as possible, Delilah got to her feet and clipped her ammunition belt around her waste, slinging her pistol into its holster and both her rifles over her shoulders. Pushing the wide brimmed hat onto her head, she felt ready for whatever the day might hold. She strapped her boots on tightly and tiptoed over to Lorelei.

  
“Hi, girl,” she whispered, “we’re going to go on a little adventure, you and I.”

  
Untangling the reins from the hitching post, she led her horse out of camp at an agonisingly slow trot. She couldn’t risk waking anyone now. Delilah was going to prove herself, she was going to make sure they all knew just how valuable she was -

  
“And where might you be going?”

  
The gruff voice made her jump and reach for her pistol. Turning, she saw Arthur Morgan, with his hat pulled down over his face and a lit cigarette in his mouth. He stood up straight, taking the cigarette in his right hand.

  
“I asked you a question.”

  
“I’m going out.”

  
“Running off to the law, are you?”

  
“What?”

  
“You heard me, Miss Lopez. You going to the sheriff to tell him our gang was right under his nose all this time?”

  
“Delilah, not Miss Lopez. And I’m not going to the sheriff. If I were leaving for good, why wouldn’t I take my bags?”

  
He thought about this for a few seconds. “Alright then, where are you sneaking off too?”

  
Delilah drew her head back and stood up straight. “I’m going to hunt a bear.”

  
Arthur, who had at that moment taken a puff of his cigarette, coughed abruptly. “You’re what?”

  
“Going to hunt a-“

  
“I heard you, alright! Why exactly are you doing such a stupid thing?”

  
Delilah folded her arms. “Because no one around here is going to let me do anything of value unless I prove I’m worth taking with them.”

  
“And maybe they’re right, if you’re seriously going to hunt a bear on your own!” Arthur was having trouble keeping his voice down. “I should just do you a favour and get Dutch to send you packing right now!”

  
Delilah stepped forward. “Or, you could let me go after this bear and get ripped to shreds. That would be a far more efficient way to get rid of me for good.”

  
Arthur buried his face in his hands. “You know what, if you’re so keen to die, go ahead and get on with it. But at least let me come with so I can either save you when you need saving, or shoot or when you need shooting, whichever as befits me at the time.”

  
Delilah sighed. “You won’t let me go alone?”

  
“I’m not keen on sending anyone to their deaths.”

  
“Fine, then. You can come too. Since you’re coming too, we can take the wagon.”

  
“To carry what, your corpse?”

  
“Hilarious, Morgan. The bear’s corpse.”

  
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re that sure you can pull this off?”

  
“I’m definite.”

  
With an eye roll, he went back to his tent to grab what looked like a rolling block rifle while Delilah hitched Lorelei up and made her way over to the wagon. Arthur soon joined her and took the reigns.

  
“You don’t trust me to drive?”

  
“I don’t trust you to do much about anything at this point.”

  
Delilah decided it might be wise to sit there in silence while Arthur guided the wagon out of camp. Once they were on the main path and heading towards the Grizzlies, she attempted to make polite conversation.

  
“So...how long have you been with this gang?”

  
Arthur sighed. “Is this your idea of socialising?”

  
“It’s my idea of getting to know my fellow gang member.”

  
“At this rate, I can tell you that you won’t be a member of this gang much longer.”

  
“Oh, Dutch banishes people for bravery?”

  
“You’re really missing the point here. There is a distinct difference between being brave and fool hardy, but with you I think it might be a serious case of overconfidence.”

  
“You’re very demoralising.”

  
“I’m just telling the truth. Either you accept it, and we turn back right now, or you don’t, and you spend your final days becoming a bear’s breakfast.”

  
“I doubt many people can say that about themselves.”

  
“No one can say anything at all after being eaten by a bear!”

  
“Did you ever ask them?”

  
A groan. “Was that sarcasm or are you just plain stupid?”

  
“A mixture of both, undoubtedly.”

  
“Can’t say I disagree.”

  
Another long pause in the dialogue ensured.

  
“Look, I’ll give you a chance Lopez. You prove you can shoot right now, and this...expedition goes ahead. If not, we’re going straight back to camp and you apologise to Dutch.”

  
“Apologise for what?”

  
“Sneaking off on your own.”

  
“If you hadn’t shown up, I’d have been there and back again by now.”

  
“If that’s what you have to tell yourself. You see that deer over there?” He pointed to the nearby grassy hills. A lone deer was grazing quite a distance away.

“Kill it.” Arthur slowed the wagon to a halt and looked at her expectantly. “Well, get off and get it!”

  
“That won’t be necessary.” Delilah slipped the rifle off her shoulder. “I’ll get it from here.”

  
Arthur laughed at that for about thirty seconds. “You want to bet on that?”

  
“Sure. Ten dollars if I get it, and an extra ten if I get it with one shot.”

  
“You’re on.”

  
She took aim, tucking the butt into her armpit and gazing into the sights on her trusted weapon. In less than ten seconds, she lined the centre of the cross right against the animal’s heart.

Sorry, Arthur.

  
Delilah fired and watched with satisfaction as the animal dropped to the floor in a heartbeat (ironic, that). She turned to look at Arthur who was staring, speechless. She decided to fill the silence.

  
“I’ll get it. It was my kill after all. While I’m skinning it, you can go to the bank and get those twenty dollars you owe me.”

  
Arthur snapped out of it. “I can’t deny it,” he said as he reached into his satchel and pulled out twenty dollars. “That was good shooting, kid.” He placed the money in her palm and took the reigns. “I’ll bring the wagon over so you won’t to carry it as far. Don’t worry about skinning it, we don’t know how long it will take us to get this bear and we don’t want the meat going off.”

  
It took around three minutes to load the deer’s body onto the wagon. Delilah was definitely strong for her age and build, but that didn’t mean physical labour was effortless. It was a great relief when she climbed back on the bench at the front and let Arthur guide the wagon towards the increasingly ominous Grizzly mountains. Delilah almost wished she had brought her journal; they were so striking it was making her feel in the mood for a little poetry. The mountains that looked blue from here, cutting through the clouds like a knife through a pillow-

  
“What are you staring at?”

  
“The mountains. Aren’t they amazing?”

  
“They’ll be a lot less beautiful up close, I can tell you that.” Arthur sighed. “What was your name again? Your first name, that is.”

  
“Delilah.”

  
“You ever been out west, Delilah?”

  
“Can’t say I have.”

  
“Most of the gang has. We moved to this area recently, couldn’t risk the law getting too close to us. Of course, they know who the major guns amongst us are, but they didn’t know where we were camping. They might’ve found out if we stayed there too much longer, so the plan is to spend a few months down here before we head down towards Blackwater.”

  
“Blackwater? The posh town?”

  
“The very same. You been there?”

  
“Once. But only for a day.”

  
“Keen on seeing it again?”

  
“Not particularly.”

  
Arthur sighed. “Then maybe you shouldn’t.”

  
Delilah turned to face him. “What are you trying to say?”

  
“I’m saying that maybe this gang isn’t what you’re looking for.”

  
“Oh, should I throw in my lot with the O’Driscolls?” 

  
“Very funny, but that ain’t what I mean. Someone like you...you’re better off on your own.”

  
“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

  
“Take it however you want, the point still stands.”

  
“Alright. Why don’t you like me?”

  
Arthur laughed humourlessly. “Oh, should I already trust you with my life?”

“Don’t you?”

  
“Not in the slightest.”

  
“Why not?”

  
“You’re reckless. You’re manipulative and you’ve already proved you can’t be trusted to do as you’re told.”

  
Delilah groaned inwardly. She had known it was only a matter of time before people started to take this view of her, but she had hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. “I can’t argue with the last point. But do explain the other two.”

  
“Is that even necessary? Reckless: you are under the impression that just because you’re a good shot you can easily take down a bear singlehandedly. That sort of thinking can get not only you hurt, but those around you.”

  
“Fine. That’s fair, I guess. But manipulative?”

  
“You’re pretending to be more egotistical that you really are. Someone who shoots so well needs patience to learn it, and you never would have done so with that attitude. You want me to think that’s the way you are so I’ll tell Dutch you’re a loose cannon that needs something to shoot at.”

  
“What does that even mean?”

  
“You know perfectly well what it means. I don’t know why, but you’re desperate for something criminal to do and it ain’t healthy.”

  
Delilah was deadly silently. Mainly because Arthur was a surprisingly good judge of character.

  
Eventually, all she said was, “I’m very sorry we got off on the wrong foot, Arthur. I didn’t mean to come across that way, and I hope you’ll let me change your mind.”

  
Arthur sighed. It didn’t seem like she’d be changing his mind anytime soon. “Sorry if it sounded harsh, but it’s for your own good that I said that, kid. I used to be arrogant, in a different way. It didn’t end well for anyone.”

*****

For the rest of their slow but peaceful journey towards the mountains, Delilah tried hard to keep her mind off everything that Arthur had said. But she kept coming back to it, because he had been pretty spot on about most of it. She had so many regrets in life. Wasting the majority of her teenage years pickpocketing, getting into useless trouble and being cooped up in an ageing house was up there on the list. Not having any social skills was another one. Quite a few people seemed to detect that there was something fundamentally wrong with her when she tried to speak to them normally. That was why she often put on acts. And then those acts were just as bad as her normal self.

  
Then again, maybe that was for the best. Her relationships with other people rarely ended well.

  
Arthur gave her arm a gentle nudge. “What do you say we start down by the lake?”

  
Delilah blinked several times. She hadn’t really taken in the landscape, just watched the colours go past like waves on the sand. “Sure.”

  
Arthur brought the wagon to a stop next to an enormous lake that almost made a perfect circle. The two of them got down and walked towards the pristine water. It was almost magical. Ribbons of colour that could only have been fish flashed across the surface, only to melt back into the mouth watering turquoise that was a near perfect reflection of the sky above it.

  
Delilah couldn’t have asked for a better day for a bear hunt. Kneeling down, she looked long and hard at the ground, looking for the slightest deviation from the standard layer of rocks and pebbles. Precisely seven minutes later, she found something of interest.

  
“Here!” Delilah called, waving to Arthur. “I think I’ve found some tracks!” He hurried in her direction. “And there’s a chewed fish head,” she muttered as an afterthought.

  
Arthur looked at the tracks for a solid thirty seconds before agreeing that they were, indeed, bear tracks.

  
“They’re going into the woods.” He pointed with the barrel of the repeater he was holding. “Are you ready for this?”

  
Delilah, who had decided that the best way to get back on his good side was not to speak at all, merely nodded. And so they started to follow the trail, walking alongside each other but never meeting the other’s eyes. As the trees grew higher and the grass grew taller, the tension between them only seemed to do the same.

  
“Can’t believe you’ve got me doing this,” Arthur muttered.

  
“I didn’t make you do it. You chose to come with me. You could have left me to die alone.”

  
“I’m starting to regret that decision. But then again, Dutch wouldn’t have been too pleased with me sending you to your death, and as much as I hate to admit it, neither would I.”

  
Delilah stopped and turned to him. “This sounds pitiful and needy, but don’t hate me. Not if you can help it, at least. I will contribute to this gang, and...I will try to be a better person than I acted like today, alright?” She folded her arms. “Is that good enough for you?”

  
Arthur tilted his hat back and looked her in the eyes. “I suppose so. I’m trying to remember what I said before - that I was once just as reckless and stupid as you. But then again, if you were completely idiotic, you wouldn’t care what I thought of you.”

  
“Thank you. You’re smarter than you look.”

  
“Better than looking smarter than you are.”

  
To Delilah’s shock, she found herself laughing. She definitely didn’t deserve a friend like Arthur. He was fundamentally good, although she suspected that he’d be the sort of person to deny that.

  
“So shall we catch ourselves a bear then?”

  
“Lead the way, kid.”

  
The trail led them quite a way into the depths of the forest. As she walked, Delilah couldn’t help gazing up at the patterns formed by the tree leaves and the sprinklings of golden sunlight that seemed through. Maybe it was a good sign. Maybe she was meant to find this gang, and it had been wrong to assume she would never change. With people like Arthur, Karen, Mary-Beth, even Miss Grimshaw - she just might.

  
It was just then that she realised the trail had taken a sharp turn to the right. Following it further, Delilah saw all too clearly that the last they could see of it stopped at the mouth of a cave. It was impossible to see what waited inside.

  
She sighed. “It has to be in there.” She turned to Arthur. “Do you have any bait?”

  
“Well, I wasn’t exactly equipped for bear hunting when this expedition was sprung on me.” He turned to her. “I’m guessing you didn’t bring any.”

  
“What makes you think that?”

  
“Why would anyone bring bait with them knowing they’d be hunting a bear? It’s completely illogical!”

  
Delilah scoffed. “Right. Do you have a light?”

  
Arthur looked at her like she was crazy. “You’re going in there?”

  
“It’s only fair I go. This whole trip was my idea. Besides, if I go in there, get its attention and sprint for my life, when I come out screaming, you can get plenty of shots in from afar.”

  
He groaned. “I don’t like the sound of it, but it’s either that or spend two hours waiting for the beast to come out, and we don’t want to worry the folks back at camp.” Arthur reached into his satchel and pulled out a candle, which he lit and placed in Delilah’s left hand. She drew her pistol and turned warily towards the cave entrance.

  
“Just before you go” - she turned at the sound of his voice - “want me to draw up your will quickly?”

  
“What a comedian you are, Arthur. Were you hoping I’d leave those twenty dollars to you?”

  
“On that note,” he coughed meaningfully, “why don’t I look after them in case you don’t come back?”

  
Delilah scoffed. “Not a chance. You might run off and leave me to get chomped.”

  
Not willing to delay any longer, she stepped straight into the black hole looming in front of her. The candle was actually rather effective against the total lack of light, but that didn’t make Delilah feel any better as she stepped round the corner and the last traces of safety vanished. She’d only killed two bears once in her life, although the way she talked to Arthur you would’ve thought she’d killed twenty and eaten them for breakfast. And those had been nothing like this. She’d observed them carefully, found a decent tree, climbed it and shot until the massive animals dropped. This...she was willingly walking into the animal’s clutches. And there was a fair chance she wouldn’t get out.

  
No. Just no. Delilah would run out there with the bear following like a cat chasing a mouse, and then she’d roll to the side just as the bear attempted to throw all its weight on top of her, putting as many shots into its belly as she could. If that didn’t kill it, one of the poisoned throwing knives clipped onto the back of her belt might just do the trick.

  
See - you’re prepared. You’re going to do this, and then they’ll all bow before you. Just you see.

  
A blanket of cold wrapped itself around Delilah as she descended ever deeper into the dark. Where was this stupid bear and why hadn’t it even noticed her presence yet?

  
Maybe it was asleep! Wouldn’t that be hilarious, how she and Arthur had thought up this whole plan and it was just lying in here, as helpless as-

  
Barely had the thought crossed her mind when Delilah heard a low growling that could not be written off as her stomach rumbling.

  
As helpless as you were this entire time, you complete imbecile.

  
In the corner of the sphere of light provided by the candle loomed the unmistakable shape of the predator they were hunting. It turned and looked directly at her.  
Delilah ran.

  
Luckily for her, the cave was so narrow that the bear had to slow down a lot to avoid colliding with the cave walls.

  
“Arthur!” Delilah screamed, “I’m coming towards you!”

  
The moment she emerged into the daylight with the bear not far behind her she dropped the candle and rolled to the side just as she had planned. The bear indeed attempted to throw itself onto the ground she had been standing on only half a second earlier, but was interrupted by multiple shots from Arthur, who was sitting up a nearby tree.

  
Delilah put several shots in with her pistol until she got the bear’s attention and it turned to her once more. As it opened its mouth to roar, she threw one of her knives right into the soft roof of its jaw, watching with satisfaction as blood started to seep from it. Not five seconds later, the bear was dead on the ground.

  
Arthur jumped down from the tree. “Not bad.”

  
“I think that went rather well, all things considered.”

  
“I fear I can’t disagree.”

  
Delilah, exhausted and out of breath, bent down, opened the bear’s mouth and retrieved her knife. “Do you want to get the wagon?”

  
“No, you do that, I’ll handle this fellow. You need to breath, calm down a little and be grateful you’re still in one piece.”

She was too tired to argue. Incapable of moving any faster, she walked down the hill until she reached the wagon. And as soon as she did, Delilah saw something was very wrong.

  
The wagon was gone.

  
Two men were laughing and driving it away down the trail.

  
Delilah gave a sigh of exasperation. She had just survived a bear attack. One thing she did not have the energy to do was yell at these fools.

  
One of them looked over their shoulder and saw her drawing the rifle from her back. He shouted to the other to drive faster. The reigns were flung in fear as Delilah loaded a bullet.

  
She watched as the wagon started to curve round the far side of the lake. She watched and waited as it picked up speed, nearing the spot she had lined up in her sights. Around one second before their neat little heads would be in the centre of that cross, she pulled the trigger.

  
Both bodies dropped off the wagon in unison, one bullet having shot through both their skulls. Birds squawked and flew away from the sound. The fish swimming near the shore wriggled away towards the centre of the lake.

And then, silence.

*****

Arthur looked up as Delilah returned atop the wagon. “I heard the gunshot, any trouble?”

  
“Not really.” She hopped down and looked at the bear’s corpse. It still looked glorious, even in death. “You want some help with that?”

  
Arthur looked down contemplatively. “I was going to say no, but this one looks especially heavy. We got lucky.”

  
“In more ways than one.”

  
“You’re telling me. You take the back paws, I’ll take the front ones.”

  
Five minutes later they had the bear’s body alongside the deer’s in the back of the wagon and were headed back towards the camp at Horseshoe Overlook. When they reached the plains near Valentine, where they were safe from any dangerous animals, Arthur turned to her.

  
“Listen, kid, I’m not denying that you did well today. Going into that cave alone was extremely brave, and your finishing blow to the bear was, quite frankly, most impressive. You’re better than I gave you credit for, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten your weaknesses. Dutch values what I have to say, so I’ll tell him what a good job you did today and that you will definitely be worth taking on any jobs he has planned. I will also neglect to mention that you attempted to sneak off and take on the bear on your own, but present it as though I mentioned it to you and you were so desperate to accompany me that I allowed you to come. But this is only on the condition that-“

  
“I don’t do anything this stupid ever again.”

  
“You read my mind.” Arthur held out a hand. “Here’s to a lasting friendship.”

  
Delilah shook it, her body flooding with relief and gratitude. “Thank you, Arthur. I would say I owe you, but that would suggest I ought to give those twenty dollars back.”

  
“And I would very much appreciate it if you don’t mention that in front of the others.”

  
“Fair enough.”

  
As they pulled back into camp, people were just started to wake up, with the except of Pearson, who was alright cooking, and Miss Grimshaw, who was cleaning some of the camp weapons. As they pulled in she marched over to them angrily.

  
“You two! What were you thinking, leaving camp at this hour! Not that I had noticed Miss Lopez here was gone, but you should have been on guard, Arthur!”

  
“Apologies, Ma’am,” said Arthur as they climbed down from the wagon, “but may I suggest you take a look at the contents of this wagon?”

  
She did so. The expression on her face could only be described as a mixture of astonishment, amazement and gratitude.

  
“A Grizzly!”

  
“Don’t overlook the deer, if you please.”

  
“But a Grizzly! You went bear hunting?”

  
“My idea, but Delilah here did most of the work.”

Dutch, who had actually been awake but was in his tent, was heading over to see what was going on, followed by another man whom Delilah didn’t recognise wearing an elegant suit, top hat and tie.

“Killed it with a poison knife to the inside of the jaw she did. You should have seen it. The deer was her kill too, with one shot no less.” Arthur shook his head as though it were hard to believe. “I’m telling you, we’ll want her with us for any major heists.”

  
Delilah rolled her eyes. She could have sworn the man in the top hat was looking her way at the time, but she really didn’t care. If Arthur sung her praises any more, it would be obvious to a gutter rat that he was being sarcastic.

  
Having achieved his objective, Arthur finally turned his attention to the man standing behind Dutch. “Is that - Josiah Trelawny!”

”My greatest pleasure, as always, ladies and gentlemen.” Trelawny sunk into a deep bow that lasted several seconds, bringing with it an awkward pause in the conversation. “I assume you’ve all missed me greatly, and it certainly seems I’ve returned to camp at a good time.” He indicated the bear corpse that Arthur and Pearson were now carrying away to be skinned and cooked. “There’ll have to be a feast tonight!”

  
“There certainly shall!” Dutch was very enthusiastic about this idea. “Our newest gang member, Delilah Lopez, has given us so much today that it is only fair we give back to her.” He turned to Miss Grimshaw, who was already starting to despair. Camp parties always made a great mess for cleaning up.

  
“Miss Grimshaw, would you mind?”

  
“Oh, not at all. I suppose we all need a little cheering up.”

  
“We certainly do. Josiah here was just telling me how he managed to secure two tickets to a party at the Mayor’s house in Saint Denis.”

  
“Well, I actually stole them, but that doesn’t bare discussing.”

  
They both laughed in appreciation of his criminal talents as Dutch and Miss Grimshaw walked off, already deep in discussion about the evening’s planned celebrations. Josiah Trelawny turned to Delilah, who wasn’t looking amused.

  
“I’m sorry my dear, did I say something offensive?”

  
She gave him a dry look. “I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t funny. ‘It doesn’t _bare_ discussing’?”

  
He laughed and shrugged. “No one else got that part.”

  
She couldn’t help smiling. “Oh well, bad wit is the best.” Only then did she become aware that she wasn’t feeling too well, and it must have shown on her face.

  
Trelawny frowned. “Are you alright? You look very pale.”

  
She glared at him and opened her mouth to reply, but he got there first.

  
“Yes, yes, you were attacked by a bear, I remember now. Come on, you need something to eat.”

  
As he led her towards Pearson’s wagon, Delilah couldn’t help grinning to herself. Hunting a bear, Dutch finally knowing how useful she was, topped off with Trelawny’s awful sense of humour...all in all it had been a good day.


	2. Solitaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delilah develops her friendship with various gang members.

Trelawny seated Delilah next to Pearson’s wagon and came back with some bread and water. “How do you feel?”

  
“I don’t know.” She accepted what he was offering and took a large gulp of water. “Sleep deprived, mostly. But my heart is beating abnormally fast.”

  
“I thought as much. You look like the sort of person who enjoys a good gunfight, but may I recommend you stick around camp today? Not to mention that you wouldn’t want to be shot when tonight’s party is in your honour.”

  
“I got that far on my own.” Delilah finished the water and chomped into the bread. “But your concern is very much appreciated.” As the nourishment brought her strength back, she turned to give the new arrival a proper look. “Josiah Trelawny, was it?”

  
He removed his top hat and bowed his head. “Indeed.”

  
She frowned. “Why are you with this gang? You seem like...more of a high society sort of fellow.”

  
He clasped his hands together, which were enclosed in white gloves as elegant as his moustache. “That’s the genius of it. Someone like me is never expected to participate in aspects of society so frowned upon as criminality. It is thanks to me that this gang is a good deal more than your standard coach robbery and petty theft sort of business.”

  
“Ah, so the genius of it is that it’s unexpected?”

  
“Exactly.”

  
“Well, why on earth didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

  
“One learns a way with words, my dear. It can get you far in life.”

  
“Why do you keep calling me ‘dear’?”

  
“A mere manner of speech. I’m sorry, does it bother you?”

  
“I guess not.”

  
As Delilah finished the bread Josiah admired her weaponry.

“Did you teach yourself to shoot?”

  
“Yup.”

  
“How long did it take you?”

  
“A few years.”

  
He laughed. “No need to be so vague. I’m not trying to find out scandalous information I can use to blackmail you.”

  
Delilah shrugged, wiping away the crumbs she knew she had scattered onto her jacket. “I don’t know that for sure.”

  
“I suppose I should be grateful someone here is even talking to me. When I arrived at this campsite I wasn’t expecting the warmest welcome.”

  
“Why’s that?”

  
Josiah took off his top hat and set it neatly on a nearby table, which Delilah took as a sign that this conversation was about to get interesting. “Well...a great many members of the Van der Linde gang seem to be distrustful of my business.”

  
“That would be a little hypocritical given that they too are a bunch of criminals.”

  
“‘Bunch of criminals’? My dear Delilah, I am outraged to hear you talk in such a way!”

She really struggled to take anything the man said seriously when he spoke with such a posh voice.

“The way Dutch described you to me when I arrived made you seem like a firm believer in his philosophy of reforming society to a kinder, better way.”

  
Ah. He had a point.

  
Delilah scoffed. “That’s never going to happen. People are inherently evil, and therefore so is society. It’s not changing.”

  
Josiah looked genuinely sad. “You really believe that?”

  
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. Before we get in a whole argument, what was that ‘business’ of yours you were talking about?”

  
“Magic.” Seeing Delilah’s eyebrows rise, he quickly sought to explain himself. “Making birds appear from hats, making rabbits vanish, you know the deal-“

  
“I know what ‘magic’ is, but how do you make money from it?”

  
“People pay to see it, of course.”

  
“They’re that stupid?”

  
That earned her a look which could be described as either sympathetic or despairing. “And what, my dear, is stupid about wanting to be removed from the horrors of daily life in this ‘inherently evil’ world?”

  
“A complete waste of money is what.”

  
The look had now moulded into mere pity. “Delilah Lopez, never before have I decided, within five minutes of talking to a person-“

  
“That they are a completely lost cause?”

  
Josiah laughed at that. “No...that you have a very unique world view.”

  
Delilah shrugged. “Sounds like a polite way of saying the same thing.”

  
“Take it however you want dear. Just don’t go chasing any more bears anytime soon, if you can help it.”

  
She stood up. “Now that I can’t promise.”

She was about to head back over to her things and do some writing while the whole bear encounter was still fresh in her mind, but Josiah asked “do you have any plans for this afternoon?”

  
Delilah turned to him. “Yes, actually. Enjoy the sunshine and be grateful that I’m still alive.”

  
“A fabulous idea! I was thinking more along the lines of-“

  
“No, I don’t have any more specific plans.”

  
“In that case, would you like to accompany me down to the river? I haven’t been fishing for a while and I’m sure Pearson would appreciate the extra meat.”

  
Normally Delilah would view this sort of request as an inconvenience, but now she was part of the Van der Linde gang, she really needed to at least look like she was being sociable.  
“Happily. I’ll just get my journal so I can write while you fish.”

  
As Delilah approached her bedding, Mary-Beth, followed by Karen, hurried towards her.

“Delilah, is it true what Arthur told us? The two of you killed a bear?”

  
“Possibly.”

  
“‘Possibly’?”

  
“Alright, yes.”

  
Mary-Beth looked like she was trying hard to contain her excitement, and masked it behind concern. “Why would you do that? You could have been killed!”

  
“Oh calm down Mary-Beth,” said Karen, lighting a cigarette, “for her it was obviously better than sitting around here dying of boredom. Plus, you should be thanking her. We’re having a party this evening in her honour, to welcome her to the gang and all that.”

  
Mary-Beth gave a gasp of joy. “Really? We haven’t had one in ages! Things really have been remarkably dull around here.” She turned back to Delilah. “Well, thank you.”

  
Delilah merely smiled in response as she picked up her journal and ink. Karen frowned.

  
“You going somewhere?”

  
“Josiah Trelawny asked me to accompany him fishing, so I’m just going to use the time to do some writing.”

  
Karen smirked. “Trelawny? Good luck with that. Had no idea that slippery guy was coming back to camp.” She took a long puff of the cigarette before continuing. “Try to enjoy yourself. It’ll be a miracle if you get any work done at all with him chattering in your ear every two seconds.”

  
Delilah was fearing the same, but nonetheless stuffed her journal, pen and ink into Lorelei’s saddlebag and rode to the river alongside Josiah. She was secretly glad to be getting out of camp, as the constant conversation and clattering of metal, both from cooking and maintenance of firearms, wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Maybe she’d finally have some peace and quiet-

  
“Lovely weather, isn’t it?”

  
Never mind then.

  
“Yes.” Delilah gazed at the flawlessly blue sky as if actually considering her answer. “Just beautiful.”

  
“I can tell you’re being sarcastic, Miss Lopez. I apologise in advance if I try to converse about more civilised topics than murder and armed robbery.”

  
“You say that like unarmed robbery is an option.”

  
“Well, it is. Dutch told me that you were a pickpocket before you joined the gang.”

  
“That’s true.”

  
“If I may ask, how long was that your profession?”

  
“Just under two years.”

  
“Why did you start pickpocketing?”

  
“Hmmm...it couldn’t have been because I needed the money...”

  
“I give up, your assessment of yourself as a lost cause was undoubtedly correct.”

  
Delilah couldn’t help laughing. “I’m always right.”

  
“As I’m starting to learn.”

  
They were nearing the river. She never quite understood why, but having the wind blow in her face and the countryside flying past her always helped her think, both creatively and logically. Her creative thoughts were planning her next poem, whereas her logical thoughts were already causing her to worry about how tonight’s party would go.

What if people started asking her questions about her past, what drove her to pickpocketing - which she had just narrowly avoided - and so on? She needed to plan what to say.

  
Josiah brought his horse to a stop at the river’s edge, and walked over to Delilah’s horse to give her a hand down, which really wasn’t necessary, but she appreciated the gesture. As he placed some cheese on the end of his fishing rod, she got as comfortable as she could on the somewhat rocky ground with her back against a rock and her journal in her hands.

Opening to the next blank page, Delilah thought for a while before she started writing. It was so peaceful, watching the calm river flowing past while Trelawny sat at its edge, a silhouette against the rising sun. One could almost forget that they were fighting for their life about an hour ago. Anyway, time to put the encounter down on paper.

  
Life is never a straight road anywhere, it doesn’t bare thinking about  
In the early morning hours I readied myself  
To head North, where the sun never shines. Ironic.  
Would I turn back South again, it remained to be seen  
Not that it mattered to me  
Joined by another who smelled dishonesty like a hound  
So we set off in silence, across the plains, mountain bound  
Oh deer, how I hate to take money off you!  
Up into the hills, hunting a Grizzly   
The sky knitted from my shirt, a sweet sign indeed  
A kill is much tastier if you can see it bleed  
The trail is autobiographical, from light to dark  
Into the woods we headed, in search of our prey  
Somewhere it lurks, readying its claws  
Shame for him there’s a big bad wolf  
She has a coat of wool and mane of fur  
What’s the point of killing her if you can’t eat her heart?  
Into the den, sweating, pawing, panting, clawing  
What’s the time Miss Wolf?  
Time for you to die.

The spawn of evil charges, and so she flees  
Before long the tables have turned, poison in its veins   
As still as a rock, fit for a tomb  
And all this done before noon.

  
Delilah set down her quill and permitted herself to gaze up. Josiah still sat as motionless as he had been when she started writing. Setting her journal down, open on the current page so that the ink could dry, she called, “have you even caught anything yet?”

  
“I have actually.” Taking the fishing rod in his left hand, he held up a startlingly red fish that had been lying out of sight. “You must have been really engrossed in your writing.”

  
“It happens.” Delilah walked over to take a closer look at the fish. “It’s a really unusual colour.”

  
He looked surprised. “It’s a sockeye salmon, they’re all more or less this colour. I thought you did your own hunting before joining us?”

  
“Hunting, not fishing. I’m not a fan of the taste of fish.”

  
“So you just ate meat every day?”

  
“I’d buy canned things from the shop sometimes. Or just steal them when the shopkeeper wasn’t looking.”

  
He sighed. “Still, fish of all things? You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  
“Trust me, I know exactly what I’m missing, and I’m better off for it.”

  
A genuine look of pain could be seen on Josiah’s face. “Suit yourself. Do you want to take the rod for a while so I can rest my arms?”

  
“Sure. Can’t promise I’ll catch anything though. It’s been several months since I fished. They’re only worth it for selling.”

  
He laughed. “Don’t worry, I can help.”

  
“How, exactly?” Delilah made sure to give all her sassy comments with a smile so that they wouldn’t be considered rude. Not that she was trying to be rude - to her great surprise, she was actually starting to enjoy Josiah’s company.

  
“You know, telling you what to do with the rod and all that.”

  
“Fair enough.” She drew the rod back and was about to cast it when he coughed meaningfully and said, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

  
“What, should I have said ‘thank you’?”

  
With more emphasis, he repeated, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

  
“What am I forgetting?”

  
Josiah pointed to the tip of the rod, and Delilah instantly wanted to kick herself. There was no bait on it.

  
“Right, I’m a bit out of practice.”

She took the cheese he offered her and attached it to the hook. Swinging back the rod, Delilah watched the tip of the rod vanish into the blue with satisfaction. Now the wait. One of the parts of fishing she’d always hated. With hunting, there was a constant thrill, the exhilaration of chasing another living creature, of being in control. With fishing, you have to wait for the prey to come to you, and that can take ages.

  
Deciding it was time she started some conversation, Delilah asked, “what was that you were discussing with Dutch when I got back? Tickets to some party?”

  
“Yes, two tickets to a party at the Mayor’s house in Saint Denis. Only happens once a year, and this year it will be happening in just over a week. All the faces of Saint Denis high society will be there.”

  
“So...?”

  
“So, these people will be carrying a lot of cash on them.” He stroked his moustache innocently, and looked at her as if to say ‘you know what I’m thinking’. And Delilah did.

  
“You’re going to pickpocket them?”

  
“I, and one lucky other, yes.”

  
Silence for a few seconds.

  
“Wait, are you considering me for this task?”

  
“Would it be so unpleasant? You’ve had plenty of experience in the trade.”

  
“Well, that depends how much you annoy me in the next few minutes.”

  
Josiah gave an expression of mock outrage. “Me? Annoying? Practically unheard of!”

  
“Right. Apart from that, Saint Denis is almost a city, isn’t it? I’ve never been there, but I hear there’s a lot of law.”

  
He shrugged. “That won’t stop two skilled pickpockets like us. You’ve never been caught before, have you? Then why should anything go wrong this time?”

  
Delilah sighed. He was clearly winning this argument but she didn’t want to admit it. Saint Denis was not a place she was keen on visiting any time soon.

  
“I’ll think about it. I might be busy at the time.”

  
“Robbing other perfectly decent folks, no doubt.”

  
“Which is literally what you were just suggesting.”

  
“You’ve got me there.”

  
Suddenly there was an aggressive yank on the rod. Both their heads turned towards the water.

  
“You’ve got one! He’s struggling - keep him on the line!”

  
“What do you think I’m trying to do?”

  
Delilah moved the rod from side to side until the fish grew too tired to keep struggling, at which point she began to reel it in as quickly as possible. The fish attempted to struggle once more, but she did the same, and this time got it to shore. The fish clinging to the end of the rod was a small bluegill. Delilah plucked it off and threw it over her shoulder onto the ground next to the salmon.

  
“I almost feel bad for it,” she said, without a hint of remorse in her voice.

  
“I’m sure it appreciates that.”

Josiah carried both fish over to his horse and put them in the saddlebags, before returning to sit next to her. “Do you want to catch another one?”

  
“Not particularly.” She handed the rod back to him, which he cast back into the glistening waters. “Thanks for asking me to come out here. I know I’ve hardly spent any time there, but I’m glad to be away from the camp for a while.”

  
“Do you like the others?”

  
“Most of them, sure.”

  
“And which unfortunates did not make it into that category?”

  
“Miss Grimshaw, for a start.”

  
“I should have guessed as much. Most people don’t like her, but they do respect her at least.”

  
“I guess that’s really all you can ask for in her position.”

  
“I suppose so. If you don’t mind me asking - why did you join this gang?”

  
Delilah frowned. “You heard why, I’m sure. I’m a firm believer in Dutch’s vision of reforming society to a better way.”

  
The thought made him laugh silently. “We both know that’s not true.”

  
She sighed. “Right. But I needed something that sounded good.”

  
“Don’t we all. What was the real reason?”

  
Delilah massaged her hands uncomfortably. “I guess I was bored.”

  
“You joined a gang because you were bored?”

  
“Sick of not doing anything meaningful, that is. I thought a gang like this might be a positive change from how I used to live. Pickpocketing is pretty dull.”

  
“And that’s it?”

  
She folded her arms and turned to him. “What do you want me to say, that I’m wanted in every other state in the nation?”

  
“I must admit, that would be more believable coming from someone like you.”

  
“‘Someone like me’? Do specify.”

  
“Well, you know. A female gunslinger. An outsider in society. I’m surprised you’d keep such a low profile all your life.”

  
Delilah smiled. “Oh, it was hard. But sometimes you just don’t want attention.”

  
As he started reeling in a fish, Josiah glanced over to where her journal was lying. “What do you write in there?”

  
“Poetry.”

  
“What about?”

  
“My life. Because I have nothing better to talk about.”

  
“I have no doubt your life is a fascinating poetry topic.”

  
“Trust me, anything can sound interesting when written in a series of incredibly cryptic stanzas.”

  
“I’m sure of it. Who taught you to write?”

  
Oh no. “My parents.”

There was a long pause while he contemplated whether to ask the next question. Delilah decided to solve his dilemma.

  
“Well, if you want to know what happened to them, they died in a robbery. I was out buying food at the time, and I came back and found them dead.”

  
“That’s awful. I’m so sorry it happened, and when you were so young too. It must have been an absolute nightmare.” Josiah looked genuinely sad and was no longer focused on fishing.

  
“You’d better keep reeling or he’ll get away.”

He took her advice, still upset, murmuring something sounding like “these things shouldn’t happen.”

  
“I appreciate your sympathy, but in the long term it wasn’t that bad. They weren’t that nice to begin with, and I was always much better on my own anyway. Extreme long term, I get to meet all you cheerful people.”

She spread her arms wide as if they were standing in front of her. “People die. It’s something to get used to, and I’m glad I did at a young age. It stood me in good stead.”

  
The fish had long since gotten away. Josiah set down the rod and nervously moved a little closer to her.

  
“Delilah, has it occurred to you-“

  
“That I’m not wholly sane?”

  
“That wasn’t what I was going to suggest.”

  
“Of course it wasn’t. What were you saying?”

  
“That your harsh judgements on yourself and the world are a way of coping with what you’ve been through. Sorry if I sound like I’m analysing you, but I hate to see someone take such a dehumanising view of the world and those in it, at such a young age too.”

  
Delilah was taken aback to hear someone speak to her this way. She had always thought it was plain obvious that everyone was more evil than good. Even altruistic people were still selfish. They were either being good to gain the favour of others or because they were trying to get to Heaven, end of story.

  
“Well, I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but I can’t see myself changing my mind any time soon.”

  
“A shame.” This time Josiah added a worm to the end of the rod before casting it back into the water. He hesitated a few moments before saying “on the way here I passed through the sheriff’s office in Rhodes, and look what I found.”

He removed a rolled scroll of paper from inside his coat and handed it to her. Delilah unrolled it and looked at it - a wanted poster for a criminal named Fenton Jones, reward of $400 for bringing him in alive. He was wanted for ‘numerous stage coach robberies and murders across the state of Lemoyne’.

  
“There’s a really big price on this guy’s head.” She looked at the date. “The poster was put up today, who’s to say some bounty hunter hasn’t already brought him in?”

  
“Now that is where we have an advantage.” He kept his eyes focused on reeling in a rather large fish as he spoke. “The reason it’s so tricky to catch this fellow is that no one knows where he’s hiding out. He leaves survivors after robberies, provided they don’t cause him any trouble, but should they try to follow him, they’re shot dead for sure.”

  
“And exactly what advantage are you talking about?”

  
“I know a man, works at the Rhodes post office, who might have an idea of which stagecoaches our friend Fenton will be robbing next. We’ve worked together a few times now, he’s perfectly happy to give advice on well loaded stagecoaches for a small commission.”

“I assumed as much.” Delilah placed her back against a rock and looked at the face on the poster. “So what’s your plan?”

  
“We hear about the next potential target, and find a suitable place to observe the coach’s journey. Once Fenton has robbed it, we follow him, but stay a significant way behind.”

  
“You don’t think we should threaten him while he’s robbing?”

  
“No. No telling what he’ll do, probably threaten the passengers, and then our cover’ll be blown. Much better to follow him discretely, and take him by surprise wherever he’s hiding.”

  
“If you say so.” Delilah stood up and walked to the river edge to watch the reeling of the fish, which was taking a significantly long time. “But are you sure you ought to accompany me?”

  
“Why, do you think I’ll turn you over to the law?”

  
“Funny. No, it’s you being shot I’m worried about. Can you even use a gun?”

  
“That’s why I’ll be helpful. With me there, no one will suspect our true intentions.”

  
“I thought the whole point was that what’s-his-face won’t see us?”

  
“True, but you never know.”

  
“Alright then, but I still can’t see you being of much practical use.”

She stepped forward to help him heave the fish onto land. It was huge, at least ten pounds.

  
“If nothing else, I need to be there to claim my share of the money.”

  
She patted his top hat and chose a half joking, half serious tone.

“You don’t trust me?”

  
“Delilah, not to sound rude, but I don’t think anyone trusts you.”

  
The honesty actually made her laugh. “That’s probably true.” She knew she shouldn’t find it so funny, but she couldn’t help laughing. “You’re not so bad, _dear_.”

  
“See, you use it too! Oh, you were making fun of me.”

  
“Yup. Shall we get this fish on your horse?”

  
Together they achieved this task. Delilah might be a great marksman and strong enough to handle heavy weapons, but she would never be great at hand to hand combat. Her arms and legs definitely needed more practice in terms of fighting.

  
They decided fishing had exceeded its peak of interest, and so Delilah stuffed her journal back in her saddlebag, and the two of them rode back to camp.

  
“Are we going after Fenton today?”

  
“What? Of course not! You have that party in your honour today.”

  
She rolled her eyes. “Right. We can be back before then.”

  
“You don’t know how far his camp is, and based on the fact that no one’s found it yet, it’s probably miles from any stagecoach he’s robbed.”

  
“Alright, I’ll stay for the stupid party.”

  
As they were riding, an important thought occurred to Delilah. “How will we split the money anyway?”

  
“The way the gang always does. Half of the take goes to the gang’s general fund, the other half is split between those involved in earning it.”

  
“So we’re supposed to get a hundred dollars each?”

  
“Indeed.”

  
“Even though all you did is pull a poster off a wall?”

  
“That’s hardly fair, without me you wouldn’t have the tip about the stagecoaches.”

  
“Still, I’m going to be doing all the work.”

  
“I guess we’ll see.”

*****

They returned to camp with a few waves, but generally minimal excitement, which was ideal for Delilah. Josiah took his hat off to her, and then headed off to speak to Dutch, probably regarding their plans for tomorrow or the Saint Denis party.

She deposited her journal near her bedding as usual, and decided to make good use of the fact that Grimshaw wasn’t bothering her. It really was time she talked to a few more people at camp, and since Trelawny, the most entertaining by far, was now deep in conversation, she decided to talk to the other girls, who were currently knitting.

  
“Hello everyone.” She sat down at the table next to them.

  
“Well howdy.” Karen suddenly looked up with interest. “How was the fishing trip with Trelawny?”

“Surprisingly fun, and I actually did get some writing done too.”

  
At this Mary-Beth perked up. “Can you please read us some of your poems? I’m sure you’re an amazing writer!”

  
Delilah laughed. “I’m really not. I just manage to make things sound more interesting than they are.”

  
“And that’s exactly what we need in this dull campsite in the middle of nowhere.” Karen set down her knitting and lit a cigarette. “Go on, read us something.”

  
Delilah bit her lip nervously. Reading to Karen, Mary-Beth, and now Jenny, who had just sat down. In comparison to hunting a bear it shouldn’t scare her at all, so why did it?

  
“Well.” She undid her braid and let her dark hair fall down over her shoulders, and opened the journal to her cherry pie poem (best of a bad bunch). While Delilah read she never let her eyes leave the paper, even for a second, and had to force herself to slow down at the pauses. When she looked up at their faces, she tried to process what she saw. Mary-Beth looked delighted, Karen looked confused and Jenny looked thoughtful.

Mary-Beth then applauded.  
“That was lovely! You should publish it!”

  
“I tried to publish once, it didn’t work.”

  
“Well, try again! That was amazing.”

  
“How was it amazing?”

  
“All the words, the symbolism.”

Jenny pitched in now. “It’s astounding how much thought you must have put into it.”

  
“Not to sound rude, but could someone please explain to stupid Karen here what that was even about?” There was general laughter at Karen’s admission and they turned to Delilah expectantly.

  
“It’s hard to say. It started with me wanting to write a poem about how I hate it when I’m told I, or anything I worked hard on, isn’t good enough. In the poem, the girl is baking a pie for Time, but he says she’s useless and the pie isn’t good enough, so she throws it into the garden for the birds to eat. The birds are also Time in another form, as they both ‘fly’. The girl then shoots the birds and makes them into a feather boa as she’s angry, and is happy at the end as she’s risen in her own estimation, albeit not by much. So basically it’s not really anything amazing.”

  
“I like it,” said Jenny, “creepy and cryptic. I agree with Mary-Beth, you’re a really good writer. The three of us should write something together sometime.”

  
Mary-Beth turned to her. “You write too?”

  
“Not really. I’d just add a much needed touch of the mundane to the things you two write,” she added playfully.

  
“I look forward to it.” Karen waved her cigarette appreciatively. “Now that it all makes sense to me, I feel a sudden interest in poetry. I’ll be happy to review your book.”

  
Delilah crossed her legs with satisfaction. “Much appreciated, Miss Jones. I never would have taken you for a reader.”

  
Karen laughed. “Well, what else do I have to do around here? Anyway, maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.”

  
“I don’t mean to offend, but I doubt it will take long for that leaf to turn back over.”

  
That was only met with a shrug. “Nothing like being honest. Can’t say I disagree, for that matter.”

  
For some reason, Mary-Beth was still keen on discussing the poems. “Could we hear some more, Delilah? I did love that one so much!”

  
Delilah shook her head and placed a protective hand on her journal. “I wasn’t aware I’d be having an audience when I wrote these, so I’d prefer to keep them private as I originally intended, if you don’t mind.”

  
“I thought you tried to publish them?”

  
“Act of desperation.”

  
“Well, don’t worry, it’s fine! But if you ever do feel like sharing them-“

  
“I’ll know where to find you.”

  
She beamed. “Exactly! I’m always happy to read whatever you have to write.”

  
“Anyone fancy a game of Dominoes?” Jenny was already reaching for the pieces. “I haven’t had a decent game in a while, but with the four of us it should be a pretty interesting game.”

  
Mary-Beth looked alarmed. “Are we playing with money?”

  
Karen snorted. “Of course we are.”

  
“We hardly stand any chance of winning with four players!”

  
Jenny grinned. “All the more glory to our soon to be revealed victor then.”

  
Delilah sighed. “I confess I’ve never been that big on gambling, but I’m happy to play with you ladies. I just prefer the more guaranteed methods of making money, if you know what I mean.”

  
“Oh, don’t we all.” Jenny had now placed all the dominoes face down and mixed them up. She did some quick counting and then said “alright, everyone take six.”

  
This they did. Mary-Beth was still looking worried.

  
“What are we playing for?”

  
Jenny thought. “How about...we each bet a dollar.”

  
“So the winner gets four dollars?”

  
“A three dollar profit,” clarified Delilah.

  
“Exactly.”

  
Mary-Beth sighed. “I guess I can handle losing a dollar.”

  
Karen raised her eyebrows. “It’s not like we have anything to spend it on anyway.” She considered that, and lowered her voice. “Other than putting it in Dutch’s tithing box, that is.”

  
General sniggering ensured. Delilah couldn’t help thinking it was lucky Grimshaw was currently berating Bill, who was drinking whisky at a nearby table.

Jenny pointed at Mary-Beth and moved her finger in a clockwise circle. “You first, Mary-Beth, and we’ll go this way, me, Delilah and then Karen.”

  
“Wow, thanks.” Karen was drumming her fingers anxiously as Mary-Beth considered her move.

  
“I don’t know what I want to start with!”

  
Delilah decided to ‘help’ her out. “Start with the smaller numbers, preferably different ones.”

She managed to sound so sincere that Mary-Beth didn’t question her at all, placing a one and two tile on the table. Karen and Jenny were looking stunned, with a hint of admiration for her cruelty.

  
“That was cold, Delilah.” Jenny said it jokingly - it was only a game after all.

  
Mary-Beth instantly looked up. “What?”

  
Karen was trying not to laugh. “You should start with high value tiles, as if none of us can make a move, the winner is decided based on whose remaining tiles have the smallest value. And you should use a double if possible, as there’s a chance the next person won’t have that number.”

  
Mary-Beth slapped Delilah’s hand lightly. “That was mean.”

  
Delilah gave an innocent shrug. “I’m improving your strategy.”

  
Jenny couldn’t help herself. “What strategy?”

  
Mary-Beth feigned outrage. “You’re lucky I’m a good sport.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at Delilah. “Unlike some people.”

  
The remaining rules were classified as they played. The winner would be the first to win the round, as they weren’t bothered to play more than one, and as there were only about three spare dominoes, they would be passing turns rather than drawing tiles. Having four players turned out to be a highly time consuming experience, and they were soon finding ways to liven the game up.

  
“Alright.” Jenny placed both her hands palms down on the table as if she meant business. “We really need to make this more interesting. How about every time someone plays a five” -she placed a five and three down to illustrate her point- “everyone else gets to ask a question, and you have to answer.”

  
Karen rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Guess you’re up first then.”

  
“Ask away.”

  
Mary-Beth was very enthusiastic. “What do you think about Lenny?”

  
Jenny shrugged. “Lenny? He’s very nice. Why do you ask?”

  
She was about to reply, but Karen put a hand on her shoulder. “We get to ask the question, not you,” she said slyly, and the game commenced. Delilah seemed to remember hearing that Lenny liked Jenny romantically. Now that would hilarious: Lenny and Jenny.

  
The game proceeded, with Delilah being the next to play a five.

  
“Ooh, what shall we ask?” Mary-Beth sat forward in her seat.

  
“About her past misdeeds?” mocked Jenny with a laugh.

  
Please no.

  
“How about her future plans?” Karen suggested. “Delilah will have to tell us all about what drove her to this gang at tonight’s party anyway. I want to know what she’s going to do next?”

  
You’re not wrong there.

  
The others pondered this and came to the conclusion that, yes, it was a more interesting question. Which meant that Delilah, in turn, had to ponder her answer. She decided to break the tension by laughing.

  
“How am I supposed to know?”

  
“Well, take a guess.”

  
She sighed and rested her head on her hand. “I don’t know what to tell you. You’re all lovely people, and right now I want nothing more than to become your friends and to stay with this gang - become family like everyone always talks about. But I don’t know if things will turn out that way.”

  
Mary-Beth spoke gently. “Why not?”

  
“I don’t know, it’s always impossible to predict exactly what will happen next, but beyond that...I don’t know if I’m entirely invested in this gang’s morals.”

  
“How so?”

  
“With all the being kind to people - while robbing and murdering others - it just seems a little hypocritical, and I like to stick to my beliefs.”

  
“And what are those?”

  
“That if you’re not prepared to fight, you’re probably going to end up suffering severely at some point in your life. Hence why I fight. And it’s all I know how to do, all I can enjoy. And I’m not stupid. That’s not going to change just because I’ve joined a group of people that are fundamentally kinder and better than I will ever be.”

  
Jenny shuffled down the bench toward her. “Delilah, I do understand what you’re saying, but people can change. You may think you’re a bad person, but you’ve been nothing but lovely to the three of us.” This was backed up with nods from Karen and Mary-Beth. “And the people in this gang, at least most of them, are good. That’s why they picked me up when I was found on the streets instead of leaving me to die. You might think you’ll never live up to our ‘standards’, but no one here will judge you for anything - unless it’s absolutely crazy of course, but that won’t happen because you’re clearly not the horrible person you make yourself out to be. You may have done bad things in the past, but haven’t we all?”

  
Karen shrugged as she put out and threw away her cigarette. “Face it, Delilah, no one’s perfect. Don’t waste your time comparing yourself to others, to some idealised version of what perfection should look like, because joining this gang alone shows you want to change. That’s what tells me you’re good. Good enough to care about what you do with your life. You don’t want to see it that way, there’s nothing we can do to change that. But maybe if you start believing you’re capable of something good, you’re a good deal more likely to do something good...you know what I’m saying or am I just rambling?”

  
Delilah smiled. “No. I know. Thank you all. I don’t deserve you.”

  
Karen threw her arms up in the air. “And there we go again!”

  
They all laughed and the conversation quickly fell back to lighter topics. Delilah hated how, somehow, every conversation she had with someone ended with them giving her words of encouragement after she went on about what a bad person she was. It really would be so much simpler if they just took her at her word when she said she wasn’t changing.

  
A few more questions were posed, two to Karen, one to Jenny and Mary-Beth each. Delilah made a point of not playing her remaining five.

  
When they only had a few tiles left, Jenny made a move that meant the next domino could only be placed if it contained a four. They all confessed to having to pass the turn, and then counted their remaining points. It turned out Karen was the winner, with a total of six.

  
“Well,” she said smugly, collecting a dollar from each other player, “don’t mind if I do. I never say no to free money.”

  
They tidied up the Dominoes set and went back to their chores. Delilah slipped away to get some extra sleep in as soon as she could. This party would undoubtedly be exhausting and she would need to be up early to go after Fenton with Josiah tomorrow. All in all, she really needed to learn to sit down once in a while.

*****

Delilah found herself awakened by clanging metal, signalling Pearson filling bowls with stew. She had woken at the right time. The stew must be the starter, she thought with a smile, we’re having bear for main course.

  
Accepting a bowl, she seated herself on one of the logs around the now roaring campfire. Please, not campfire stories. It might bore her to sleep, and that would probably be considered rude at a party in her honour.

  
Once everyone had taken their seats, Dutch stood up in the centre of the makeshift circle. “My friends, tonight’s celebration marks a very special occasion. We are officially welcoming a new and invaluable member to our family. Miss Delilah Lopez, who was kind enough to provide us with tonight’s dinner.”

This was followed by some withered laughter. People clearly couldn’t wait to get to the alcohol.

“Her bravery and skill has been proven beyond doubt with her defeat of a Grizzly of significant size - oh, with a little help from Arthur, of course.”

  
Uncle prompted to applaud Arthur in a way that could only be considered sarcastic. Although he clearly didn’t mind, Delilah felt sorry for him. If he hadn’t been there, she would’ve been in a lot of trouble.

  
“With no further ado, ladies and gentlemen, let us celebrate!”

  
And so they did. Within minutes Javier had out his guitar and was playing some very nice music. If only it had been an instrumental piece. Uncle, Bill, John, Mac and even Dutch were all singing along, and not in tune. There was finally a break in the noise when the bear meat was brought out.

Everyone was desperate to get a piece of the juicy flesh, but Pearson had enough sense to give Arthur and Delilah the best bits. Biting into meat had never felt so satisfying. Delilah had always thought something tasted better when you killed it yourself, just like how eating the same food off someone else’s plate never felt right. She hardly ever had the patience for cutlery, and turning away from the campfire, tore at the lump of meat with her teeth. Blood oozed in between her teeth and trickled under her tongue, and when she swallowed she could almost feel it running in her veins like oil.

  
Several people had split off from the main campfire, most notably Sean and Karen, who had disappeared completely from sight. The singers had also relocated to the scout campfire, thank goodness. However, Delilah wasn’t left in complete peace. Various people headed off to have their own conversations, but Josiah, Tilly and Hosea were still seated nearby.

  
“So, Delilah...” the way Hosea spoke made it seem as though he chose every word deliberately, “what turned you to a criminal life?”

  
Here it was. Josiah looked as though he were about to make some comment that would get her out of it, but she shook her head to indicate that she would be fine answering. She repeated the whole story about her parents dying during the robbery almost exactly how she had told it to Josiah. The others were all very silent as she spoke, and Delilah was well aware that she was staring into the fire rather than their eyes. Eventually Hosea spoke.

  
“It must have been awful, losing your parents at such a young age. I’m very sorry that you had to go through that, Delilah.”

  
She shrugged. “Thanks. But it’s over now. And I have a new family.” She gave her best smile of gratitude to every person seated there in turn, but she could tell Josiah wasn’t falling for it, not after he’d been subjected to her stereotypical conversation of ‘I, Delilah, am evil and I refuse to believe otherwise’.

So she continued the story for as long as she could, talking about how she’d started pickpocketing and training herself to fight, for the next few years. And eventually she was so sick of it and was desperate for some sense of meaning, so she joined the gang. And that was all there was to it.

  
Somewhere in the background, Hosea was talking about his childhood and Tilly was discussing all the trouble she’d had with her previous gang, something about the Foreman boys. And yet Delilah couldn’t hear any of it. She was thinking back to the night. When she was seventeen.

  
She said she was tired, thanked them all for being so welcoming and for being so kind to her. Delilah headed in the direction of her sleeping place, but instead went to stand near the edge of the woods. She was still looking for those gleaming eyes, wondering if that cougar was lying in wait for her, hoping that she’d walk in unaware, and then the claws would dig into her flesh.

Threats that one couldn’t see - they were one of her biggest fears. And yet she couldn’t help thinking if, one day, the gleaming, thirsty eyes she saw would be her own.

  
The chill of the cold was getting to her. She silently cursed herself for not having taken some of the bear skin to make into a coat for herself, that would have been a souvenir worth having.

  
“Are you cold, dear?”

  
Delilah didn’t even have to look to see who it was. Josiah Trelawny’s iconic voice would be the subject of a good deal of mockery if she didn’t have her social standing to consider. And yet, she found the sound of it comforting.

  
She turned around, arms folded. “What do you think?”

  
“You’re cold.”

  
Delilah pulled her jacket even tighter around her body. “You’re not wrong there.” She needed to say something other than these short, specific sentences she could default to. “I’m not going to lie, I wouldn’t mind sleeping in an actual bed. In an actual house.”

She sighed, knowing where this was going. “Maybe I miss my old life more than I thought.”

  
He shrugged. “Nothing unusual about wanting to sleep in some more humanitarian conditions for a change. The hygiene here must be absolutely appalling.”

  
That made her laugh. It was so easy to laugh around him.

  
“Are you sleeping here?”

  
“I fear I may eventually have to, but I’m heading to the Valentine hotel tonight. A man in my position is used to higher standards than this.”

  
“I can’t blame you. What time shall we meet to go after old Fenton?”

  
“I say eleven. We can make our way down to Rhodes and get some lunch at the general story before starting our hunt. That way we can avoid Pearson’s cooking.”

  
“Good thinking.” Delilah trudged past him, all too ready to sleep. At the last minute she turned to face him.

  
“Thanks for putting up with me. It must be so exasperating dealing with someone as self-centred as I am. I never even bothered to ask about your past or anything.”

  
Josiah took her hand in his and gave it a comforting pat. “Well, that can be our conversation for tomorrow’s journey. And I very much enjoy your company.”

  
Letting go of his hand, all Delilah did was give a small smile that she hoped would display her thankfulness. “I look forward to it.”


	3. Mowgli’s Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delilah teams up with a new friend for some bounty hunting.

The pleasant morning light burned holes in Delilah’s dreams. She opened her eyes to see the outlines of camp tents blowing ever so slightly in the wind. The weather had been nothing short of wonderful for several days now, and she doubted it was going to last much longer. 

She didn’t think she could stand eating another bowl of stew, so she helped herself to some fruit instead. Josiah was still at the Valentine hotel, so she could at least plan how things would go for the rest of the day.

  
She and Josiah had agreed to head down to Rhodes, pick up lunch there as well as speak to this man who was happy to give tips about stagecoaches ripe for robbing. Then they would find some vantage point to follow the coach and observe it until Mr Jones showed himself. It was definitely a gamble, given that he might not even rob the stagecoach in question and they could just be wasting their time, but the money would definitely be worth it, and like Josiah had said, none of the other bounty hunters had a clue where to find the guy either.

  
It wasn’t long before he showed up, dressed just as smartly as he had been yesterday. “Shall we go?”

  
Delilah got to her feet, slinging her rifles across her back and adjusting her ammunition belt. “Does Dutch know?”

  
“I told him yesterday.”

  
She pushed her hat down, having tied her hair back in a tight braid. “Then let’s go.”

  
Mounting their horses, the two of them rode out of the camp, through the brief glade and out onto the plains of the Heartlands.

  
“I assume you know where you’re going.”

  
“Oh yes. I came up here via Rhodes. I thought it’d be worth a visit. Lemoyne is definitely developing a lot, mainly due to everything going on with Saint Denis. I can’t believe you haven’t been there in the past, what with your thriving career as a pickpocket.”

  
“Well, I never saw the need to venture that far from home. And besides, given that you’re offering to take me there anyway, I didn’t end up missing out on anything.”

  
“Does that mean you’re considering accepting the offer of a free ticket to the Mayor’s party?”

  
“It certainly seems an offer worth taking. I assume that the money will be split the same way as we’re planning to with this job?”

  
“Half to the gang, the remainder split between us, yes.”

  
“Good. Can’t say I’d be that bothered if there weren’t a profit to be made.”

  
“You shock me.”

  
Delilah gave a pitying smile. “Any member of this gang would have the same concerns.”

  
“I suppose you’re right there.”

  
They passed Valentine, taking the path leading them south-east in the direction of Emerald Ranch. The sky was blue with a slight splatter of pale grey clouds. In every direction there seemed to be strands of green grass and elegant rock formations watching over the surroundings like sentinels. And yet as they moved further south, trees with branching leaves emerged and the boulders were pressed back into the earth.

Personally, Delilah found it more appealing than the scenery in the Heartlands - there weren’t any open plains like the ones that Arthur had spoken of so wistfully, but she liked the sense of closeness and warmth that somehow accompanied the land down here. But then, of course, Josiah started explaining the darker side to it.

“While I was down here, I managed to pick up a bit of local gossip about the situation. Apparently there are two families, the Grays and Braithwaites, who pretty much compete for control of the entire area. There’s some feud between the two, and they absolutely detest each other. That’s all I managed to hear about it. The area might look pretty, but there’s definitely a lot of intrigue underneath it all.”

  
“Did I ask for the history of Lemoyne?”

  
“Well, no-“

  
“Don’t worry, I’m joking. You might think I’m all about killing and robbing, but I don’t mind learning some interesting facts now and then. They might save a life one day.”

  
“I very much doubt that, but the sentiment is appreciated.”

  
Josiah looked thoughtful for a while, then asked, “do you mind me asking about your parents’ deaths? I’m not trying to be rude, but you sounded like you weren’t that concerned about it.”

  
“I guess not. Go ahead.”

  
“You said you went ‘home’ not long ago. Did you keep living in your old house?”

  
“No. After I’d buried them I couldn’t live there anymore, so I got all the things I really needed and found an abandoned house near Valentine that I made my home. I’ve lived there ever since.”

  
Josiah sighed and looked at her. “You are so brave, Delilah. I have no idea how an experience like that would have affected me.”

  
Please don’t say that. “Well, isn’t that exactly what happens to the people gangs like this fight? The lawmen we kill have families. Children will probably get orphaned all the time because of the things we’ll do.”

  
Josiah shook his head sadly. “I don’t want any part of those things. Dutch always tells us not to kill people unless we need to, but I just prefer to stick to inconspicuous robbery. That way the people don’t get to think about whether or not to attack us.”

  
Delilah shook her head in bewilderment. “I still don’t know how someone like you would choose this kind of life. Like I said before, you seem like a person for high society.”

  
“One day, maybe I hope to be. Saint Denis is a pleasant enough place to live. And yet, this life...it’s addictive.”

  
“You don’t have to tell me. I never want to leave it. Having something to fight for, even if it’s not a ‘good’ thing - it takes my mind off the fact that life is normally pretty bad.”

  
“To each their own. Isn’t the landscape here lovely?”

  
“Just gorgeous.”

  
“I wish I’d brought my photography box.”

  
Delilah laughed. “You actually have one of those? Why?”

  
“Because some memories are just so beautiful that you want to relive them whenever you can. What better way to do that than with a picture of the moment?” 

  
“Plenty, I’d say. Then again, I wouldn’t exactly know, given that I don’t have that many beautiful memories I want to relive.”

  
“What about the moment you joined this gang?”

  
She thought about it. “Pretty good. But not beautiful.”

  
“After you killed that bear?”

  
“That wasn’t entirely me. Besides, it’s hard to consider something beautiful when it was the aftermath of something absolutely terrifying.”

  
“Fine. What would you consider a beautiful memory?”

  
Delilah was surprised to find it such a challenging question. She definitely hadn’t been lying when she said she didn’t have many memories that would classify as beautiful. And yet there was one that would suffice nicely.

  
“When we went fishing at the river. It was just so peaceful, listening to the water pushing rocks along the river bed, and the wind breezing through the trees. In that moment, I felt like nothing could hurt me.”

  
“Would you have wanted a photo of that moment?”

  
She smiled. “Sure. Not one with me in it. One taken from where I was sitting, with you fishing in the distance, so I could imagine myself being there again. That would be perfect.”

  
Trelawny gave a sly smile. “I thought you said you never wanted to leave your criminal life. Now you’re saying you’d want to stay somewhere peaceful?”

  
“I’m sorry, will I be charged for this psychology?”

  
“Oh course not. It was a mere question.”

  
“And here’s my mere answer: it was a peaceful moment. Moments are better if you can only live them once. I see no reason to wish to spend my entire life doing something as mundane as sitting by a river.”

  
“I dare say you’ve made your point. And just in time my dear Miss Lopez, for we are now looking upon the town of Rhodes.”

  
It really wasn’t that different from Valentine, appearance wise at least. There was a butcher’s stall set up on the outskirts, several shops lined up in two parallel lines. And next to a small seating area complete with an attractive enough turf and a few flowers, was the post office they had come in search of.

  
The two of them hitched their horses outside and made their way through the double doors.

Josiah gave her a meaningful look. “Leave the talking to me, alright?”

  
“My pleasure.”

  
Delilah followed him towards the boxed off area for clerks to receive letters for posting, for criminals to pay off bounties on their heads, and so on. She noticed that the post office led onto the train station platform, same as the one in Valentine. That made her realise - she had actually never been on a train. Lorelei had always been far more efficient, and she’d never really travelled that far anyway.

  
“Why hello, Alden!” Josiah’s voice brought her back to reality. He was leaning on the counter, looking at the dark haired man wearing a blue uniform on the other side of the bars. So this was the one who gave out the stagecoach tips.

  
“Josiah!” He actually sounded happy. “I haven’t seen you in months!” Alden turned to Delilah. He didn’t seem remotely fazed by her unusual appearance. “Is this one of your new friends?”

  
“Indeed it is. Miss Delilah Lopez, one of my trusted associates.”

  
Delilah tipped her hat to him.

  
“Alden,” Josiah laid Fenton’s wanted poster on the counter top, “I heard this man is highly wanted in these parts.”

  
“Well, it’s right there on the poster. $400 if he’s returned alive.”

  
“Exactly. Miss Lopez and I are on his track, and we’re well aware he’s been robbing stagecoaches in this area.”

  
Suddenly Alden looked alarmed. “Are you suggesting I’ve been helping the man?”

  
“No, no, Alden. I’m all too aware that a man with that price on his head couldn’t just walk in here and speak to the station clerk. What I’m suggesting is that a tip from you about any potential robbery targets would be very much appreciated.”

  
Alden tilted his head back as he processed this. “You’re intending to catch him in the act.”

  
Josiah shrugged. “How else would we find him?”

  
“Well, I hardly know, I don’t really go in for the paid killing business.”

Alden stood there expectantly until Josiah caught on and handed him ten dollars.

  
“A little more than usual I know, but I thought it only fair given that we’ll be receiving a larger payout than we normally would.”

  
“Ain’t you kind, ain’t you kind.”

Alden removed a thick book from a nearby shelf and rifled through the pages. He gave a soft “ah” as he arrived at the correct one, and scribbled something down on a spare piece of paper with a fountain pen.

  
“It won’t be coming through until tomorrow, I’m afraid.” He slid the paper to Josiah through the hole in the grating. “It’ll be worth it though. Banking stagecoach. A lot of security, but this Fenton fellow certainly doesn’t seem daunted by these situations.”

  
Delilah moves forward and read the note over his shoulder. It read ‘banking stagecoach carrying at least $1500. Coming from Annesburg to Rhodes, will be passing through the crossroads near Flat Iron Lake at around 12:30 pm’.

  
Josiah gave a sincere bow. “Many thanks, Alden. Your services are always satisfactory.”

  
“Oh, it was a pleasure, Josiah.”

  
“Now we’d better see about getting rooms at the saloon here until tomorrow.”

  
“Oh, there are no rooms for rent here I’m afraid. Our only saloon is just for drinking and gambling, absolutely no rooms available.”

  
The look on Josiah’s face was one of pure horror. “No rooms? What kind of town is this?”

  
Alden only shrugged in reply, while Delilah put a hand on Josiah’s shoulder.

  
“Relax. I’ve got the equipment to set up a camp, we can find a spot near the crossroads and be up with plenty of time to spare.”

  
Josiah sighed. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just head back to our main camp? Or the Valentine hotel at least?”

  
“You never know, old Fenton might get up to a little excitement down here while we’re gone. Besides, if this stagecoach is so heavily loaded, there might be others out to rob it, and we’ll need to scare them off. And when I say we, I mean me.”

  
Josiah shook his head in despair. “Very well. And I was hoping to avoid sleeping in the dirt for the near future.” He took off his top hat to Alden. “Goodbye, dear friend.”

  
“Goodbye, Josiah.”

  
Josiah and Delilah left the post office and mounted their horses, Josiah putting the note safely in his pocket. Delilah turned to him.

  
“Do you know where this crossroads is?”

  
“I think I do.”

  
“Then lead the way.”

  
“What about lunch? Shouldn’t we pick up some food at the general store first?”

  
“Right. I completely forgot about that.”

  
The two of them headed across the street. As they did so Delilah eyed the butcher’s stall wistfully.

  
“Don’t you think we should buy some meat and cook it over our fire?”

  
“I think a little variety won’t hurt.”

  
Delilah rolled her eyes. “You’re not the one stuck in camp eating bowls of Pearson’s stew every day.”

  
“You’ve only been with this gang for three days and you’re already that sick of his cooking?”

  
“Just goes to show how bad it is.”

  
Nonetheless she followed him into the store and picked several cans of fruit and some chocolate. The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow upon seeing her but said nothing.

The two of them once again mounted their horses and Delilah followed Josiah towards the crossroads. She decided it was time for some politeness.

  
“You know how I said yesterday that we should talk more about you, given that every conversation ends up about me somehow? You should tell me how you joined this gang.”

  
“Well...I’m not really sure I’d be considered a member of the gang, mainly, because I don’t move around with or stay with them like everyone else. But that’s part of my speciality, I spend time everywhere and hear about any big heists that may be available. How did I join, you ask? Dutch and I ran into each other when he was sniffing around way out west, looking for a potential robbery target no doubt. It didn’t take me long to work out his type, given that I’d already been conning people for years. I made some cryptic comment to suggest that I’d be happy to help him out, for a share of the money. It might sound strange, but weaselling my way into those aspects of high society that you associate me with has always been one of my God-given talents, so it would be a waste not to use it.”

  
Delilah adopted an overly bright tone. “I couldn’t agree more! Criminals really should be more accepted in society.”

  
Josiah raised an eyebrow. “Are you mocking my voice?”

  
“Oh, not at all. It’s simply luscious.”

  
“‘Luscious’? That is a highly unusual way to describe how someone speaks.”

  
“Well what do you want me to say? Rich? Textured?”

  
“How about advanced and sophisticated?”

  
“Alright then. An _attempt_ at sounding advanced and sophisticated.”

  
Josiah clearly would have buried his head in his hands if he hadn’t been riding. “You never fail to be utterly cold, do you Miss Lopez?”

  
“Consider it my God-given talent.”

  
“Now that would be a feat worth paying to see.”

  
Delilah smiled. “You’d really waste your money just to see someone buy into a delusion like that?”

  
“It wasn’t to be taken literally, but since you pose the question, I’d be more than happy to see someone else believe in the best of you, given that you’re adamant against doing so yourself.”

  
“And here we are again. I don’t want to talk about me anymore, alright? We’re all criminals, all bad people, no matter how we all justify it. Let’s just accept that and move on.”

  
“On the contrary my dear, being criminals doesn’t automatically mean we lack any sense of humanity. I only ever really fell in with this gang after I learned what Dutch stood for. I never would have thrown my lot in with the O’Driscolls or Lemoyne Raiders.”

  
Delilah sighed. “You want to argue? I can do that. What exactly are you talking about when you say ‘what Dutch stood for’?”

  
“You know. His ideas of reforming society to-“

  
“A kinder and better way.” Delilah scoffed. “You aren’t stupid, you can’t believe that’ll ever happen. And I’m somewhat confused as to how going around robbing and killing people will help us ‘reform’ them.”

  
Josiah gave one of his smug smiles, that clearly suggested he thought he’d got something good. “Then why did you join the gang? You said you felt it offered you a chance to change. You clearly saw something good in it.”

  
That threw Delilah for a few seconds. But no longer. “What I saw was the chance to get myself out of a house that had been gathering dust mites and an alarmingly unstable roof for years. And this is the only gang that takes women, so there wasn’t really much choice.”

  
“You’re telling me that if the O’Driscolls had made an offer you’d have gone with them?”

  
“Well, no, given that they have the collective intelligence of two trees. A gang was a well timed means of saving myself from a premature death due to boredom, end of story.”

  
“Will you ever stop being cynical?”

  
“Happily, for a certain fee.”

  
“I guess that answers that.”

Josiah looked at an elegant gold watch he took from his pocket. “It’s almost one. I hope you have some good ideas for how we’ll pass the rest of the afternoon, Miss Lopez.”

  
“I’m thinking we go for a swim in that nearby lake.”

  
“That’s a joke.”

  
“I don’t know - is it?”

  
“I wasn’t asking a question.”

  
“Well, don’t worry. It was definitely a joke.”

  
“I’ve never been so relieved in my life.”

  
“Why? Are you afraid of the alligators?”

  
“There aren’t any alligators in this region. They’re all down in the swamps near Saint Denis.”

  
“Fine, I’ll give you that. But seriously, what would be wrong with a swimming trip? Is it that you can’t swim?”

  
“I assume you taught yourself.”

  
“You assume correctly.”

  
It was at that moment that they arrived at the unmistakable crossroads. The path they had come from leading towards Rhodes, and a straight road perpendicular to it, making three total choices of path. It wasn’t that far from civilisation.

  
Delilah turned to Josiah with a frown. “This doesn’t seem the safest place to rob a stagecoach. How can we be sure Fenton will do it here?”

  
“I think it’s safe to assume that one of Alden’s colleagues is tipping Mr Jones off about the stagecoaches, probably by post given the bounty on his head. That means he gets exactly the same information we do, except he probably doesn’t know there are other people that are receiving the same tips. And if we don’t catch him here, we can keep trying elsewhere. No one else will be getting any closer to catching him.”

  
She shrugged. “It’s still a gamble. I sincerely hope it will be a worthwhile one.”

  
“I’m with you there. Shall we camp by the lake?”

  
They guided their horses around the rock walls separating the field in front into several smaller fields and dismounted by the bank.

  
Delilah tapped her boot on the ground. “I can already tell this will be more comfortable than the last river we set up camp at. The ground’s much softer.”

  
“That’s good, since we’re planning to sleep here.” He narrowed his eyes and did his best to look accusing.

  
“You know it’s best. From here we can monitor what’s happening, get a front seat to any exciting activity.” Delilah removed her pair of binoculars from one of Lorelei’s saddlebags to prove her point. “And most importantly, make sure nothing happens that could lead to the stagecoach’s journey being cancelled.”

She sat down upon a log, looking towards the crossroads. “You could probably head back to camp now. We got the tip from Alden, I’ve got this from here. Besides, you’ll be able to achieve your life ambition of sleeping in an actual bed.”

  
Josiah laughed and shook his head. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ve come this far, I might as well see things through. And I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

  
Delilah raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “You think you can save me from getting killed?”

  
“It’s more about the encouragement and optimism that my presence will provide.”

  
“Ah. I should have known.” She walked back over to Lorelei and started unloading her camp supplies. “You’d better get comfortable then, given that we’ll be here all day.”

  
“Fear not, I have just the thing.” He removed a fishing rod from his horse. Delilah raised her arms in defeat.

  
“Is fishing your answer to everything?”

  
“I have a fishing rod, there is a lake. It seems like a perfectly natural conclusion.”

  
“Yes, but...don’t you get bored of it?”

  
“You get bored far too easily. Now I see why you never got into fishing.”

  
Delilah feigned outrage. “Are you trying to match my legendary sarcasm?”

  
“I wouldn’t dare.”

  
She muttered, “and there he goes again, with the sarcasm.”

*****

They actually remained in silence for a while as they ate their lunch. For someone who got bored easily, Delilah could be remarkably focused on a job. She never took her eyes off the road, observing those who rode past on horses, the occasional wagon and the even rarer pedestrian. When it became obvious that nothing exciting was going to happen, she retrieved her journal and ink from their storage place on Lorelei and started writing.

  
I remember you  
Years and years and I still remember you  
Why can’t I forget?  
Your tawny hair, the scrawny stubble of a beard begging to grow  
Maybe I wanted you to obsess  
Maybe every smile I gave you was a play for the throne of your heart  
Did you even see? I know you did  
You looked at me like you would no other  
Held my eyes captive as though I were your hostage  
But maybe you were mine.

I can’t forget you  
And I don’t want to try  
When after all this time   
I wish I could ask why  
You treated me like a queen, when around you I felt a fool  
No one will ever make me feel that way  
And why should they? I sold my soul to you  
When I look at anyone else all I see is an afterimage of you   
In trying to capture your heart  
I lost sight of mine

Jacket of pale brown leather, tie as silky as your tongue  
How I wanted to caress your tanned skin  
Is it sad or beautiful that I only remember you   
Through a photo and my imagination  
I’ll never forget you.  
You are the criteria against which I judge others  
The mask I started to wear  
Until it moulded to my face.  
When I was with you I was only afraid of myself   
And what I might do  
To make you care for me like I did for you  
What was wrong with me? I hardly knew you  
But I knew what I thought of you  
Are you real or just a picture in my head?  
Do I love an illusion or reality?

What do I want from you - it’s hard to say   
Do I want kisses and love and a diamond ring?   
Of course not, far too dull  
I want something more.  
Hold me when you like, touch me when you like  
Let me be your partner in crime, love and life  
My heart beats for you, my blood pumps for you  
One day I hope it will spill for you.

And that particularly gorgeous evening   
When we went to the house   
Found guns, ammunition and the desire to kill   
That day I became truly free  
Free to love you as I wanted  
Free to end those who scorned me.

  
Delilah paused to read back over the words. She had been writing just as obsessively as the speaker, and with good reason. Never had she expected to miss anyone, and yet every time she went to the Valentine post office and found a letter waiting for her in that scrawny handwriting, she missed with a heart she didn’t even know she had.

  
“Ahem.” She looked up to see Josiah staring at her quizzically. “You look deep in thought.”

  
“How kind of you to go out of your way to interrupt my deep thoughts.”

  
“I thought you were supposed to be watching the road.”

  
“And such a beautiful road it is too, and yet nothing is happening with it. How’s your fishing?”

  
“Just fine.” He indicates two reasonably large fish lying beside him. “How’s your writing?”

  
“Just fine as well, thank you.”

  
“You looked like you were writing a lot.”

  
“Well, I was.”

  
“What about, if I may ask?”

  
“You know - things.”

  
He correctly assumed that she didn’t want to say any more.

Delilah let her eyes shift back to the road, and when doing so saw three people, two men and a woman - all armed - heading for the intersection of the three roads. Grabbing her binoculars, she observed the men giving the woman some instructions. They then hid themselves in the nearby trees while the woman sat down beside the road and positioned herself so it looked like she was holding an injured leg. Delilah rolled her eyes.

  
Josiah raised his eyebrows. “What’s going on?”

  
“These idiots are planning a robbery.”

  
“Ah.” Josiah took the binoculars from her and observed the scene. “So she pretends to be hurt, and then they jump out at the innocent passerby who stops to help?”

  
“Exactly. If you’re going to rob someone, at least have the decency to do it well. It’s obvious she isn’t even hurt.”

  
“She’ll probably make it less obvious when someone else actually shows up.” He looked at Delilah. “I think we should clear them out.”

  
Delilah stood up. “I couldn’t agree more. Anyone who tries a trick that stupid deserves to be taught a lesson.”

  
She vaulted over the rock wall in front of them, made her way across the field and onto the track. The moment the woman saw her she cried out in fake pain, disguising any shock at Delilah’s appearance.

  
“Miss! Miss! My horse threw me and I landed hard on my leg! It hurts real bad, please help!”

  
Delilah knew the moment she got close enough the woman would pull out the gun holstered behind her back. She was about to have some fun.

  
Heading forward as though she were oblivious to what was planned, Delilah put on an expression of fake concern. The moment the woman moved her hand towards the gun, she was ready. One bullet sent the pistol flying from the woman’s hand.

Her two associates emerged from the thicket with their guns ready, but a moment later they were lying dead on the ground, a bullet through each of their foreheads. Seeing the woman making a grab for the gun, Delilah kicked it out of her reach, keeping her own pistol trained on her.

  
“And that is what happens when you have the gunslinging skills of a horse. Did you seriously think that would work on anyone?”

  
Still highly alarmed, the lady muttered, “it has before.”

  
“Well, take this as your lesson that conning people into being robbed in such a blindingly obvious way isn’t always the best idea. Let me give you some advice-“ she took one step forward and the woman immediately scrambled backwards, “there is a lot more money to be made from pickpocketing. This is me giving you the chance to go off and keep living your wretched life, so if I were you, I’d run before I change my mind.”

  
The woman didn’t waste a second to get to her feet and run off down the road. It was almost disappointing.

  
Delilah picked up her discarded gun from where it lay, wondering if that imbecile even knew how to use it. The weapon was in serious need of oiling, and when she looked at the bullets in the chamber, they looked pretty old too. Maybe their previous exploits had been so successful people had just handed over their money in fear of their lives without a second thought.

It really was quite sad to think about - how people could instantly disregard the fact that their fighting back could actually achieve something.

  
Wondering if the other two had anything of value on them, Delilah searched their bodies. A little loose change, some herbs, a map of the surrounding area, and a knife on one of them.

By this time Josiah had joined her and watched her examine the bodies.

  
“Anything of interest?”

  
“Not really. I doubt that lady will be doing any more robbing any time soon. Of this calibre, at least.”

  
“Well, you really showed them. Hopefully there won’t be any more events of interest before this stagecoach arrives.”

  
“I couldn’t agree more. At this rate I’ll never be able to swim in peace. Yes, that was a joke.”

  
“I cannot express my relief. However, it does seem that we will have to spend the rest of the day fishing.”

  
“At least we’ll be able to eat them for dinner.”

  
“What happened to your fish hatred?”

  
Delilah smiled and shrugged. “I guess it’s circumstantial.”

*****

Dinner was surprisingly delicious. Delilah shot a rabbit, Josiah continued to eliminate the fish population of the local lake, and together they cooked their food over the open campfire. The soft crackling pierced the still, windless night like a knife while scalping. It gave the comfort of some mystical entity there with them as they dined on the rich meat.

As its wealth thickened her veins, Delilah gazed up at the night sky, trying to see stars. No matter how hard she tried, they eluded her, remaining hidden in their shrouded masks. She shivered as the cold trickled down over her.

  
“Here I am, freezing cold and still not understanding why you’ve chosen to accompany me this far despite having nothing to contribute to the rest of our mission.”

  
Josiah shrugged. “A sudden thrill for adventure, maybe.”

  
“That thrill is probably going to get you killed.” Delilah looked about aimlessly. “How are you finding the campfire experience?”

  
“Surprisingly comfortable, baring in mind the extremely cold reception.”

  
“Another genius joke from Josiah Trelawny.”

  
He gave a mock bow. “Glad I could impress.”

  
“Oh, that reminds me. I haven’t seen any of your magic tricks yet.”

  
“I thought you disregarded magic as a waste of money.”

  
“I’m a friend, so it is your job to demonstrate for free.”

  
“Fine. How about some card tricks?”

  
Delilah rolled her eyes. “Really? I was hoping for a classic rabbit under the hat.”

  
“Not playing cards. Fortune telling.” He removed a pack of cards from his pocket and offered them to her. “Pick one.”

  
Delilah opted for one on the left side of the deck. Pulling it out, she flipped it over and looked at the image. A woman with an infinity symbol over her head. She turned the card around and showed it to Josiah.

  
“Strength. It symbolises overcoming animalistic instincts as well as inner knowledge and skill.”

  
Delilah scoffed. “Tell me something I don’t know.” She chose another one - this time, the wheel of fortune.

  
“Luck and fortune. But it can suggest too much of a good thing.”

  
Delilah frowned. “Too much of a good thing? What good thing might that be?”

  
“I don’t know! It’s not like an explanation comes on the back of the card.”

  
“How useless is that? One more, then I’ve had enough of this tomfoolery.” She pulled out the final card and immediately said, “this has got to be wrong.”

  
“What did you get?”

  
“The lovers. Your deck’s rigged.”

  
“I’m not sure. You’re a very charismatic person.”

  
“Charismatic in the sense that people dislike me the moment they set eyes on me, which is the intention.”

  
“Plenty of people like you.”

  
“Yeah, when I try to be nice. And it takes far too much effort.”

  
“Either way, I guess we’ll see.”

  
“I guess so.” Delilah lay down on the bedroll on her back. “We’d better get some sleep. Last thing we want is to be woken by Fenton’s gunshots.”

  
“I do agree. And we’ll need to put out our fire before then. If he sees the smoke he might be put off.”

  
“I doubt that he’ll be put off, but it’s a good point. Sleep well, and don’t wake me up with any rabbits in the morning.”

*****

Morning came. The two of them awakened at around half past eleven. Packing up the campsite, it was an agonisingly slow wait, knowing what would soon be occurring. The hand of their watches ticked ever nearer twelve thirty.

And just like clockwork, the stagecoach emerged from the woods at almost that exact time.

  
“Fenton, don’t let us down,” murmured Delilah as she observed the scene.

Josiah crouched beside her, looking just as tense as she felt. Their plan would either end with getting a lot of money, losing Fenton, not finding Fenton at all, or death. And what happened next would be a big factor in deciding which of those outcomes would occur.

Both guards seated at the front of the stagecoach were armed with repeaters, so if Fenton attacked they’d be killed for sure. Same for the guards riding behind on horses. They were all done for if Fenton were as good as people said.

  
The boom of a gunshot. Both Delilah and Josiah ducked out of sight behind the rock wall, hardly daring to peer out. When they did, several more gunshots had been fired and the stagecoach had been brought to a dead stop.

The two guards on horses were shooting wildly at the trees, unable to spot the attacker. The next two shots looked like they could have gone right through their hearts. They both came from the safety of the wood grounds, where a man was lying, almost invisible in his dark brown clothes against the shrubbery.

Satisfied with a good day’s work, he leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the stagecoach. Removing a lock picker from his pocket, he got to work on the lock box at the back of the coach.

Within five seconds, he had it open and was removing vast sums of money. A sharp whistle brought his horse cantering to his side, and he stuffed the saddle bags with all the money he’d just looted. In a flash, he was on its back and galloping off into the woods, clearly trying to put any law that might come after him off the scent.

Delilah and Josiah immediately hurried back to the trees where they’d tethered their horses and mounted up.

  
“Right, we need to give him a bit of a head start or he’ll see us following him.” As she spoke Delilah checked over her favourite rifle, the one which certainly hadn’t failed her in the aftermath of the bear hunt. “I’m fairly competent at tracking, we should be able to find wherever it is he’s hiding.”

  
“And what then? You saw him robbing that stagecoach, he didn’t miss one shot!”

  
“We have the element of surprise. I’ll try to knock him out if I can, that way he won’t cause any trouble. However, when we do find his hideout, I really do think you should hang back. I’ll handle him. Normally when there’s a bounty this dangerous they’re wanted dead or alive. I’m not sure why that wasn’t the case with Mr Jones - would’ve made our job a lot easier.”

  
“He’s killed so many people that the law and the people probably want the satisfaction of seeing him hang.”

  
“They should be grateful to have the satisfaction of knowing he’s dead.” Pleased with the weapon’s condition, Delilah slung the strap across her shoulder. “Let’s get going before the law show up.”

  
They guided their horses back onto the road and towards the nearby shrubbery. Delilah stared at the ground, taking in every indentation and imperfection.

  
“Horse hooves, this way.”

  
And off they went. Fenton’s track led them on and off the road repeatedly - any heavy vehicle would find it tough to follow him. Eventually, the track took a side trail, leading off into yet another wood. Delilah could already tell they would be heading up north through the Heartlands.

  
“Clever of him to take this trail. Fenton may be wanted, but it’s in Lemoyne that there’s a bounty on his head. Here, they can’t really do anything about him. Other than shoot at him, and we just saw how that goes.”

  
She could hear the worry in Josiah’s voice when he next spoke. “You really think you can pull this off?”

  
“You approached me for this, remember? You clearly thought I’m up for the task.”

  
“Yes, but...now’s the moment to change your mind, if you want.”

  
“Change my mind? We, of all people, are finally on the trail of Lemoyne’s most wanted criminal and you think I should just turn around and go home?”

  
“No-“

  
“Good, because I don’t plan on it.”

  
Delilah climbed down off her horse to take a closer look at the ground. She noticed the way the deeper parts of the hoof marks had now changed direction.

  
“He’s headed straight up north.” She bit her lip as she put the pieces together. “Towards the Grizzlies.”

  
“Fenton’s hiding in the mountains?”

  
“I guess so.” She mounted her horse and looked up at the ever present silhouettes of spikes that were imprinted on the horizon. “Let’s go. You can accompany me until there’s a significant temperature drop.”

  
They headed on. With every pound of horse hooves on the ground, the atmosphere seemed to get a little heavier, the clouds a little darker.

Delilah was beginning to worry. Pickpocketing was easy, facing a bear had definitely been reckless, but this might just be beyond her. This was an intelligent person who planned his crimes and had a fair chance of outthinking her, even with the disadvantage that he didn’t know anyone was onto him.

Well, he won’t get to try for that chance. He’ll either be unconscious or hogtied before he can even reach for his gun.

Josiah, as per usual, decided to make idle conversation even in the most suspenseful situation.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t been here to introduce you to Alden?”

  
“If I were after Fenton?”

  
“Yes.”

  
She thought about it. “Way I see it, he’s stealing all this money, but pretty much everyone knows he’s a criminal, so he’s got to be spending it somewhere that the law won’t be alerted. I’d start at Thieves’ Landing.”

  
“The criminal port down in New Austin?”

  
“It’s right on the border between New Austin and West Elizabeth. I wouldn’t call it a port, just a town by the river. Even if that’s not where he spends his money, the chances are that someone there would know something. It’s a pretty busy place. Then again, maybe Fenton’s entirely self-sufficient and hunts his own food.”

  
“In the mountains?”

  
Delilah shrugged. “I suppose I’ll be able to ask him myself soon.”

  
“How do you know so much about Thieves’ Landing anyway? Have you been there?”

  
“No, but I have a friend who goes there a lot. I’d be willing to bet that if anyone had seen Fenton, they’d tell everything they knew for a few dollars. They may be criminals, but they definitely don’t have any honour. Not that I’m claiming to be any different.”

  
“You have honour. You let that lady run away yesterday.”

  
“And I’m already regretting it.”

  
“Why? She has a chance to start over now.”

  
“With that little intuition? It’ll be a wasted chance. She’ll probably end up as a prostitute.”

  
“Isn’t that better than being dead?”

  
“Well I don’t know. Guess it depends on your idea of honour.”

  
“We always manage to do this, don’t we? Try to turn each others’ words against each other.”

  
“It certainly makes the conversation more interesting.”

  
“I can’t disagree, but it does make me wonder why.”

  
“Maybe those stupid cards of yours can tell you.”

  
As soon as she referenced the cards, Delilah knew she’d made a mistake. Another one of those smug smiles was always starting to spawn on his face, and she quickly changed the subject.

  
“It’s getting significantly steeper here. Let me check my map.”

She rifled through Lorelei’s saddlebags and eventually found a crumpled piece of parchment. “Right, this path takes us straight up into the mountains.”

With the snow on the ground now, Fenton’s hoof marks were as good as a trail of breadcrumbs.

She turned to Josiah. “I’m not joking, this is the point where you leave things to me.”

  
Josiah got off his horse and gave a dramatic bow. “I wish you luck in your journey. Come back alive, Delilah Lopez.”

He took her left hand in his and gave it a gentle kiss before mounting up and turning back the way they came.

  
Delilah slung her rifle off her shoulder, and holding it in her right hand, nudged Lorelei forward and up the steep snowy incline. She also removed the lasso attached to her horse’s saddle and made sure it was firmly attached to her belt.

All her weapons were loaded. Delilah felt ready.

  
Even as yet another wave of cold rushed through her bones, she didn’t flinch or even shiver. She was used to cold days, cold nights, and a generally cold life. But more than anything, the chill was counteracted by the thrill of the chase.

  
The trees that surrounded Delilah had their branches burdened by piles of snow and were forced to stoop down so as to cope with the weight. Lorelei’s hooves started to drag a little as the bed of snow thickened.

  
The mountains were beautiful, make no mistake. The glittering, untainted white that gnawed at your eyes for hours afterwards, complete with a complementary blue heaven looming just above. From far away, all anyone would see in Delilah’s place was a black blob plodding through the cones of snow.

  
Then she caught sight of something which disturbed the picture. An ugly colour, out of place in this palette. Through the binoculars, Delilah identified the intruder without error: a tent.

This obviously wasn’t the nicest place to live. She almost felt sorry for Fenton. All that fighting, all that effort to succeed - and it would all be for naught.

In one motion, she was down off Lorelei, who she tethered to a nearby tree and fed an oatcake to as an apology for the undesirable climate. Delilah trekked towards the tent, rifle at the ready. When she was close enough, she announced her presence.

  
“Fenton Jones! I’ve come to talk.”

  
The man emerged with his gun trained on her. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

  
“My name’s Delilah Lopez. And like I just said, I’ve come to talk.”  
He frowned as he looked at her.

“How old are you?”

  
“Nineteen, almost twenty, but most people don’t know that.”

  
“Do they think you’re a delinquent sixteen year old? Cause that’s what you look like.”

  
“No. They think I’m twenty-two, which is what I tell them.”

  
He snorted. “I don’t believe that for one second. Only a blind man would think you were twenty-two.” All this time the two of them were still aiming their weapons at each other. “How did you find me?”

  
“Tracked you after your most recent robbery.”

  
He raised his eyebrows. “All the way from Lemoyne? I’m impressed. You must’ve had a good teacher.”

  
“Who’s to say I didn’t teach myself?”

  
“Me, that’s who. You can’t learn how to track from cooking books and knitting guides.”

  
She ignored that. “Well, you got that assumption right. I did have a good teacher. One of the best. He got me started, but I finished my education alone.” And I never regretted anything more. It was like I lost a part of myself and a new, darker one was born.

  
“He must’ve been a good teacher if he saw something in you.”

  
“You know, that was actually funny, Fenton. I’m proud of you.”

  
Keeping his repeater in his right hand, Fenton stuck a cigar in between his lips with his left and lit the match on his shoe, as he was kneeling down. Lighting the cigar, he grinned a particularly dastardly smile. “So, what are you here for? Capture me, claim my bounty, is that it? That’s all a law loving sod like you would know how to do.”

  
It was Delilah’s turn to smile. “Not quite. I happen to know you’ve been stealing a lot from the unfortunate stagecoaches of Lemoyne, Fenton. And I’m willing to bet it’s all right there in that bag inside your tent, lest you need to make an emergency getaway.”

Her heart was pounding, her hands trying hard not to tremble. The slightest mistake and she would be wearing Fenton’s bullet on her heart like a brooch. She could hear his words in her head, feeling his arm around her waist, telling her what to do.

  
He wasn’t smiling now. “You came for the money - my money? I’m not about to let some dumb bitch take everything I’ve spent months working hard to earn.”

  
“You ‘earned’ it, did you? By that logic, I too am about to earn a great deal.”

  
Delilah was ready for the shot. She had been watching the way his finger had curled even so slightly tighter around the trigger.

A nimble dash to the side, as well as a single shot, and she knew she had won. When Fenton next pulled the trigger, she didn’t even attempt to move. His cigar fell from his mouth as he realised. His gun didn’t work.

  
“What the-“ he looked down the barrel and saw that Delilah’s bullet had permanently lodged itself somewhere in the middle. With an angry yell he threw his repeater to the side and reached for his pistol.

  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Delilah aimed her rifle directly at his right hand.

  
His expression had changed from rage to panic very quickly. “What is wrong with you? How did you do that?”

  
“Like you said, I had a good teacher. Hands in the air.”

  
Unwillingly, he obeyed. “Alright, you can have the money. But please, if you have any sense of honour, don’t take all of it. Half alone is plenty.”

  
This concept of honour again. It really was getting stale.

  
“You know what, Fenton. I’ll be nice. I’ll only take three thousand, I know that’s not much considering your weekly income. But I will need some guarantee that you won’t try to do anything really stupid, like hunt me down and try to take revenge.”

  
“No, no, I won’t.”

  
“That’s a very smart decision Fenton, because not only am I running with a very powerful gang right now, and not to mention that I just managed to outmanoeuvre you, if you somehow were to succeed in killing me and walked away alive, my mentor wouldn’t be very happy about that. And he’s even more skilled with a rifle than I am.”

Approaching him slowly, Delilah made sure his arms stayed in the air while she removed both pistols from his belt and chucked them away into a pile of snow. “So if you don’t mind, why don’t you get me that money? Don’t try anything, or I’ll shoot you and make a considerably larger profit.”

  
Giving her a look of hatred, Fenton turned around and crawled into his tent. Delilah stepped back, watching him from afar while keeping her distance. If she risked getting up close to him, he’d have the immediate advantage of strength.

It was hard to see exactly what he was doing from so far away, but she could see him stuffing pale rectangular objects that could only be wads of money into a spare bag. He fiddled with it a little longer and then crawled out rather quickly.

  
“Right, now slide it over to me.”

  
“That won’t be necessary.” Fenton suddenly threw the bag at her, and on instinct she put a bullet into it. A moment later, the most tremendous explosion threw Delilah back several metres, and when she landed the snow almost felt like rock.

It was gunpowder he put in the bag. Of course, and there was probably some dynamite thrown in there as well, in case she didn’t hit it.

  
Forcing herself to her feet amidst the burning snow, she saw that Fenton was sprinting towards his horse, tethered nearby. Why hadn’t he gone for his guns? And then Delilah acknowledged a rumbling like thunder, gaining force as it increased in size, coming from the nearby mountains.

  
Oh no. Run, you idiot, run. Lorelei was whinnying in panic, but Delilah rushed into Fenton’s tent and grabbed two of the three money bags stashed at the back. They were so heavy, she felt like she had just picked up pieces of metal armour.

Every single second the roar of the approaching avalanche grew larger and she staggered through the snow as fast she she could. With the last of her strength, she tied both bags to Lorelei and climbed on top, yanking the reins free of a tree branch and digging her knees in. “Go, girl.”

  
Lorelei took off at full speed, but it didn’t take Delilah long to see that the money bags were weighing her down, which combined with the snow was definitely a cause for concern. Fenton had done the smart thing by taking off straight away - he would probably be in the clear soon, whereas she was at risk. He probably thought it would be best to let the avalanche kill her and come back for the money once the snow melted.

Daring to glance behind her, Delilah saw there wasn’t yet any significant amount of snow pursuing her down the track, but in the distance one of the sharp points was overflowing with a think, creamy snowdrift that poured down like a waterfall.

“Come on,” Delilah hissed, trying to push Lorelei to go even faster, “it’ll be worth it girl. We’ll be rich.”

  
The horse snorted, clearly trying to be the voice of reason. It almost looked like the ground was starting to shake, and Delilah was getting highly alarmed. Of all things, she was not going to die of a ‘natural’ disaster.

And yet she didn’t want to drop either money bag. More than anything, she wanted to prove that this had all been worth something. That stealing Fenton’s money, despite the risk, had been a better call than handing him over to the law.

  
An entire chuck of rock broke off a nearby ledge. Lorelei reared in panic, nearly throwing Delilah in the process. The horse galloped on with a renewed desire to escape the hostility of the environment, and the wind pummelled Delilah’s body with a force she’d never felt before - if it got any stronger, she’d be blown off.

At least the skies were clear. A blizzard would be the last thing she needed right now, riding through the snow coated valley of death.

  
Almost as though the avalanche were trying to outmanoeuvre her, a cloud of white dust slipped down from the mountains that entrapped her. Delilah was disorientated, but knew that if they kept following the trail, the two of them would be free soon enough.

It had taken her just over five minutes to climb the mountain, so why did it now feel like they were riding a marathon?

  
The spectres of trees with leaves wavered in the distance as though they were mirages. And just waiting to take her, in between the trees on a horse was the outline of a person that could only be the Grim Reaper.

Yet as she galloped closer, the face of Josiah Trelawny could be distinguished from the mist.

Seeing her moving at such speed, he too turned his horse and together they raced through the trees, down the sharp slopes of the Grizzlies and back into the plains of the Heartlands. When they finally stopped, and Delilah could breath once more, she wondered if the object causing her body to rise and fall in exhaustion could still be a heart, after all that pressure, or had it long since melted into blood and gore.

She turned to Josiah in both bewilderment and thankfulness.

  
“What were you doing waiting there? Weren’t you supposed to head back to camp?”

  
It was hard to tell if he looked guilty or disbelieving. “Well, I was going to, but then I decided I couldn’t head back without knowing you were safe. I would have felt so guilty if anything had happened to you.”

  
Delilah was confused, to say the least. “It’s not like you could have done anything. But it was...kind of you.”

Pushing her hat, which had almost been dislodged by the aggressive wind, further down onto her head, she tapped the heavy bags tied to Lorelei’s saddle. “We won’t be handing in old Fenton. Luckily, I picked up a far more significant payment along the way.”

  
It took him a while to realise what she meant. “That’s Fenton’s money?”

  
“Most of it. I had him at my mercy, was prepared to take a small percentage of his earnings in exchange for his life, but then he threw a bag of dynamite at me and voila, avalanche.” She sighed and shook her head. “You didn’t see him on the way down?”

  
“I can assure you, no one passed me.”

  
“He must’ve taken another route. Probably didn’t want to risk me catching up to him, knowing that I’d be furious.” The thought brought a smile to her lips. “If only he’d done what I said, he’d still be alive rather than buried in some pile of snow up there.”

  
Josiah stroked his horse behind the ears. “Well, I won’t be shedding any tears. We’d better hurry if we want to get back in time for the last of Pearson’s stew.”

  
Delilah groaned. “That’s my reward for everything I just went through? I’ll be taking my share of the money to buy some proper food, thank you.”

  
“I’d save it if I were you. We’ll both need some fancy clothes for our approaching trip to Saint Denis. Dutch’ll probably forbid you from leaving the camp before then, given everything you’ve already done.”

  
“Fancy clothes? Have you seen yourself?”

  
Josiah smiles innocently. “Who hasn’t?”

  
“Oh, the retaliation. It has to stop. Accept that I’m the wittier of the two of us.”

  
“Never, my dear.”


	4. Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After recent events, Delilah tries to relax back at camp.

“And that makes a total of-“ Dutch counted the money again just to be sure, “seven thousand dollars!” 

Hosea, Josiah and Arthur, quickly joined by Dutch, all broke out into applause for Delilah.

  
Arthur grinned. “A few more weeks with Miss Lopez here and we’ll be spending the rest of our lives with our feet up in California.”

  
“It really was an impressive feat,” Josiah pitched in, “You have to remember that this bandit, Fenton Jones, has robbed at least twenty stagecoaches going through Rhodes. I knew Delilah was skilled, but this -“ He turned to her, lost for words, “you’re amazing, dear.”

  
Delilah tipped her hat. “Why, thank you.”

  
“And I do believe,” Josiah rifled through his pockets, finding his share of the money from the expedition, “that you are more than deserving of more than half of our combined share.” He offered a thick collection of notes to her, which Delilah refused.

  
“You can keep it. I already have plenty.”

  
“Are you sure it wouldn’t be safer with you? I’m likely to lose it all playing Blackjack in some saloon.”

  
This led to collective laughter, which Dutch eventually broke by taking on a more serious voice.  
“Miss Lopez, this is one of the best takes we’ve had in a while. Do not get me wrong, we are highly indebted to you for your services, but I do think you should spend a little more time here at camp. You deserve some rest.”

  
Delilah quickly nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  
“Good. I believe Miss Grimshaw has already allocated all of today’s jobs, but if you ever feel like relieving Bill over there of guard duty, you are more than welcome to.”

  
Delilah just nodded, thinking about how that was very unlikely. As the group dispersed, Delilah headed over to Josiah.

  
“What exactly is the money for?”

  
“Excuse me?”

  
“You know - what’s the long term plan for this gang?”

  
“Keep us all safe and fed. Long term plan-“ he thought about it for a while, then just shrugged and said, “I guess it’s to get back out west, settle down and live good lives.”

  
She stopped walking. “What about you? Would a free, reckless life out west suit you?”

  
“Definitely not for me. I’ll be taking my share of the money to find a good home somewhere civilised.”

  
“You’re not planning to see Dutch’s dreams of a better world through?”

  
Josiah sighed. “What do you want me to say? That I think it’s all pointless and not worth trying, that I should just share your belief that no one is truly good? This gang cares about not just each other, but other people in a way which I’ve never seen in normal society. Even you have to admit it, what with your reluctance to believe anything but the worst of everyone you meet. You can’t believe the people here - Hosea, Sean, Mary-Beth - don’t have good in them.”

  
Delilah folded her arms. “I never said that there aren’t nice people in the world. I was talking about society in general when I said there wasn’t much good. But you have to remember we’re all criminals here. We steal and kill, and don’t seem to show much remorse.”

  
“We don’t kill if we can help it. And it never seemed like killing was a problem to you.”

  
“It isn’t. But I know what definition of good you’re going for, and it isn’t exactly one which can be applied to my lifestyle.”

  
Josiah took her hands in his. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad when we have these conversations. I’m just pained that you seem incapable of seeing that this world is good, and that you can play a part in making it more so.”

  
Delilah patted his hand mockingly with her free one. “Oh trust me, you don’t make me feel bad. I’m actually honoured that I intimidate you so much.”

  
Josiah laughed. “You don’t intimidate me.”

  
“Really? Prove it.”

  
“How am I supposed to prove that? I feel like we’re good friends after everything we’ve been through, that’s all. And I know you want a good relationship with this gang’s members.”

  
Delilah let herself smile. “Alright, fine. I might not always be as terrible as I try to seem. I’m just trying to tell you not to expect the best from me. But then again, you probably got that from the part where I stole all Fenton’s money rather than turn him over to the law.”

  
She had already recounted the events on the mountain to Josiah on the journey back to the camp. Despite her worry that he wouldn’t approve of the way events had gone, he had been surprisingly unconcerned, merely telling her that she’d done what she had to. He had, however, made some comment along the lines of “was it really a wise idea to rob him of his life’s earnings?” and then criticised her for “being so willing to throw away her life - you really should just have dropped the money and rode as fast as possible!” Overall, remarkably positive.

  
“It was actually quite a good idea, although the way you executed it was questionable. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it myself, but then again, I may have been blinded by the idea that he’d already spent the money.”

  
“I stick to my theory that he couldn’t have been spending it anywhere respectable, lest he be captured or lead bounty hunters to him. He was living in the mountains, so it’d be a long way to travel to a place like Thieves’ Landing. If I had to guess-“ Delilah bit her lip, “I’d say he was saving up money for a new life, far from here.”

  
Josiah ran a hand over his dry lips. “Just like this gang.”

  
“Exactly. And I robbed him blind and sent him to his death in the mountains. That was cold, literally.”

  
“He was the one who chose to attack you rather than give you a very small portion of his money in exchange for his life. You were prepared to spare him.”

  
“I guess that tells you something about how much he thinks his life is worth.” She sighed and looked around absentmindedly to show that discussion of this topic was at an end. “What are you doing today?”

  
“I don’t know. I might head down to Blackwater and see if I can sniff out any new opportunities. And don’t even think about asking if you can come with me. You need to stay here in camp and appreciate that you’re still alive.”

  
Delilah laughed. “We’re on the same page there. Happy sniffing. Do come and find me when you return, you’re very amusing company.”

  
“I’ll try to take that as a compliment. Adieu, my dear Delilah.” He took his hat off to her and then walked towards his horse.

As she watched him climb on and ride away, Delilah wondered what it was that encouraged her to tolerate the man. He was perfectly pleasant and charming, but the same could be said for a lot of people. It was probably the fact that he was actually willing to be kind to her, despite her constant sarcasm and cynicism, which would undoubtedly drive most people insane.

  
Impressive, Delilah, she thought. Your criteria for liking people is whether or not they like you first. You won’t find many people you like.

Delilah didn’t want to admit it, but the others were right when they told her to take a break. It wasn’t that she was exhausted, but such a frequent fast heartbeat couldn’t be a good thing. The thrill she got from the adrenaline and the exhilaration of knowing she was stronger than every person whose body dropped in her wake would never get boring, but the way it was done would. And if she wanted to stay with this gang, Delilah knew it would be a good idea to show she actually cared about the relationships she had with other members.

Seeing Arthur chopping firewood near the cliff edge, she headed over to join him. He didn’t look up, but must have recognised it was her through peripheral vision.

  
“Delilah Lopez. You really do insist on putting the rest of us to shame.”

  
“I apologise.”

  
“Not at all, not at all. I never thought you’d be so invested in this gang.”

  
Was that a little sarcasm? If anyone, she should know, but it was hard to be sure with Arthur.

  
“I didn’t expect to be so invested in it, but seeing the way you’re all as good as family...it’s motivated me to make some changes to my work ethic.”

  
“What changes might those be?”

  
Delilah actually hadn’t thought that far ahead. “You know...trying to live up to your morals. Not killing unless I need to.”

  
“I thought you said you’d never killed before this gang, only pickpocketed?”

  
Ah. “Well, I didn’t, but I would have been perfectly happy to.” Delilah, you idiot.

  
“I see.” Arthur set down the axe and stood up to face her. “I hope you’re taking Dutch’s advice to stay around camp today.”

  
“Definitely. All this outlawing really takes a toll.”

  
Arthur smiled. “Well, that can’t be debated. Stick around camp, enjoy yourself and try to stay out of trouble.”

  
Delilah folded her arms and raised an argumentative eyebrow. “Who says the two are mutually exclusive?”

  
“Not you, apparently.”

  
Arthur headed over to Pearson’s wagon to get a beer, and Delilah towards the other girls. They instantly made room for her as soon as they saw her approaching.

  
“Hello girls, hope I didn’t miss anything while I was away.”

  
Karen smiled in disbelief. “Of course you haven’t. We’re the ones that have been missing out. While you’ve been off hunting bears and outlaws, what have we been doing? Stuck here, doing chores.”

  
Did she sound a little jealous, or was Delilah just being paranoid? Before she could come up with any words of reassurance, Grimshaw came striding over.

  
“Mary-Beth, you’re to help with the washing up after lunch. Tilly, Jenny, I want you two taking the guard shifts once Bill’s done. Karen, make sure the horses have all the hay they need.” She looked at Delilah, who had her navy hat tilted down over her eyes to keep the sun away, her black hair wrapped round her shoulders and was looking at her pocket watch without a care in the world. The woman merely gave a firm nod and marched away. The other girls all let out an audible sigh of relief.

  
Tilly beamed at Delilah. “She must be really happy with your efforts if she’s letting you off chores.”

  
Karen gave a humourless laugh. “She’s not impressed with you, Delilah. She’s scared of you.”

  
That surprised Delilah. “Miss Grimshaw, scared of me?” The thought made her laugh aloud. “Not a chance.”

  
Karen shrugged. “More likely than you think. You went against her instructions without a care in the world when you left to go after that bear, and she’s not used to dealing with people she can’t easily intimidate.”

  
Delilah decided to clarify. “Going after the bear wasn’t my idea. Arthur was going out and he invited me.”

  
Her eyebrows shot up. “That’s interesting. I’m pretty sure those of us here at camp were unaware of Arthur’s bear hunting plans, and he definitely would have told us if he were heading out at such an early hour.”

  
Delilah breathed in the fresh air. “Guess he forgot.”

  
The other three girls were all exchanging uncertain glances, not really understanding what was happening, which didn’t go unnoticed. Karen laughed and shot Delilah an apologetic look.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to sound jealous. You’re a great part of this gang, Delilah. I might just be a little spiteful that while you get away with breaking the gang laws, we sit here obediently in camp.” She shrugged. “Then again, I suppose that’s our fault and not yours.”

  
“And I completely understand.” Delilah tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re all loyal. I refuse to stick by any rules and get far more acknowledgement than any of you, which isn’t right. But that doesn’t mean you matter less. These people are your family. At best, some of them are my friends. It’ll take me a while to earn their trust, and I’m so grateful for all you girls. You know, putting up with my constantly egotistical attitude.”

  
The group chuckled and laughed. Karen gave Delilah a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. We all need to liven up life somehow.”

  
Tilly grinned. “Ironic, given that we’re in a gang.”

  
Karen soon joined in with the laughter. “Delilah’s got the right idea. Just make your own paths, forget about letting anyone else do the work with you. I should try it sometime.”

  
Mary-Beth looked up from the book she was skim reading. “I can see you starting your own gang someday, Karen.”

  
“Ha.” She reached into her pocket for a cigarette. “Don’t I wish. I can see it now - a gang of all female gunslingers, cruising across the Wild West one state at a time.”

  
“Ah, I’m not sure I’d qualify.” Mary-Beth shut her book. “I’m not the best shot.”

  
“Nonsense!” Tilly shook her head disapprovingly. “You’re far better than you give yourself credit for. I saw you take down those three Del Lobos when we were camping by the Rio Bravo.”

  
“Well,” she chewed the inside of her mouth, somewhat embarrassed. “That was really only because I had to.”

  
“Well, I still ought to give credit where it’s due.” She turned to Karen. “A gang of our own wouldn’t be so bad if things don’t work out here.”

  
Jenny frowned. “What do you mean? We’re all doing well here. This gang quite literally saved my life while others while others were willing to leave me starving beside the road. We’re making more than enough money to live comfortably and I’ve even heard Dutch talking about moving us to Blackwater next. Imagine how much we’ll make there! I really don’t see what there is to worry about.”

  
Delilah sighed. “Be that as it may, but you really never know how your fortunes will change.”

  
Jenny gave her a sympathetic look and Delilah realised that she must have thought that was a reference to Delilah’s parents’ deaths. Apparently the story had spread around camp by now. She felt a pang of guilt when it occurred to her that Jenny, and also Mary-Beth, would now think them having lost parents was something they had in common.

Karen, who hadn’t caught onto this, continued the conversation.   
“Long story short, there’s no way to know how things will turn out, but I can tell you all with absolutely no shame that I will be loyal to this gang until the end, no matter what the risk or personal cost. Who’s with me?”

  
Jenny automatically raised a hand, closely followed by Tilly. Mary-Beth’s brow creased in thought.

  
“I love everyone here, and I’ll do my best to keep them all safe and happy. But I also have myself to consider, and it’s not like I’m obliged to stay. One day I really want to settle down and try my hand at being a writer.”

  
“If you do, I hope you have fun. You’ve earned it.” After sharing this sentiment, Karen turned to Delilah expectantly, who had made no effort to raise her hand. “Yes, we know the deal, you can’t connect with the gang’s morals or beliefs.”

She raised an eyebrow when she saw the disapproving looks Jenny and Tilly were giving her. “What? She’s said it herself, there’s nothing wrong with repeating the truth.”

  
Delilah smiled to show her agreement and removed a cigarette from the inside pocket of her jacket, which she lit with a silver lighter and placed between her teeth. The resulting sensation wasn’t nearly as satisfying as alcohol, but it definitely brought a strong feeling of relief. Every conversation she had with a member of this gang seemed to turn into a test - of her loyalty, her compassion, her friendship. Then again, it wasn’t that different to how things were before. But that had been a far more entertaining kind of test.

  
Jenny quickly said, “I didn’t know you smoked, Delilah.”

  
She waved her cigarette absentmindedly. “On occasion.”

  
“Yes, I’ve heard she has plenty of reason to celebrate.” Karen met Delilah’s eyes with an expression that was unreadable. Admiration? Contempt? Who could know.

  
Delilah opted for yet another friendly smile. “Well, I don’t doubt that my time of success has been and gone. Undoubtedly, the spotlight will fall on one of you next.”

  
The thought got Mary-Beth very excited. “Tell her, Karen.”

  
Karen now seemed much more cheerful. Delilah calmed herself, saying over and over again in her head that it was only a fleeting moment of jealousy due to her continued success. If she were in Karen’s position, she’d be a good deal worse. It was a miracle the other girls weren’t fed up with her already - if they were, they were hiding it well.

  
“Dutch and Hosea are considering whether we should rob the Valentine bank.” As she spoke, Karen leaned forward confidentially for emphasis. “And Mac and Bill have already approached me and asked if I’d like to help them with the job.”

  
Jenny shook her head in bewilderment. “In what way?”

  
“They’ll need a distraction to gather all the bank staff in one room before they enter. And you all know what my performance skills are like.” She tossed her hair and adopted a posh voice in the same tonal range as Josiah’s. “Just marvellous, gentlemen.”

  
Delilah’s surprise must have shown on her face. Karen laughed and asked “is it really that surprising that I actually have a talent?”

  
“No, no,” Delilah said, “you’d have done amazingly as a pickpocket. That voice would have kept them so distracted that they wouldn’t notice you taking a hat off their head.”

  
“Ha! Wish I were that good. Then again, I really need to get practicing if this bank job is actually going to happen.” She thought about this for a while. “That’s got me thinking, should we girls head on into town and see if we can pick up any useful information? We could do some shopping at the same time, I know Pearson is short on groceries.”

  
“A reason to get out of camp?” Jenny stood up with decision. “I’ll take it.” She looked around as the others nodded their agreement.

“We can go after lunch. Chances are that Arthur or someone else will be sent with us to make sure we don’t get up to too much mischief.”

  
“Oh, he couldn’t stop us if he tried.” Tilly too stood up. “Let’s just hope there’s room for us all on the wagon. Can you come with us, Delilah?”

  
“Sure.” Making sure her hat was firmly attached to her head, Delilah pushed herself to her feet. “They merely recommended that I stay in camp today. I’ll be happy to accompany you.”

  
“It’s sorted, then.” Karen headed towards Pearson’s wagon. “Let’s grab some food and head into that dreary town known as Valentine.”

*****

After having enjoyed a rather delicious lunch consisting of the leftover bear meat, bread and soup, all five girls were ready for the afternoon’s planned adventure. Dutch had said it would be fine for Delilah to assume the role of escort, as she’d proven herself more than capable as a fighter. So she took the reins of the wagon, Jenny climbed up beside her and the other three seated themselves in the back, soon breaking out into song, leaving the other two to make conversation.

  
“So...will you be gathering information with the others?”

  
Jenny didn’t need time to think. “Not if I can help it. At least not in the way they’ll do it. I’ll help you with the food. Playing seductive to get information is one thing, but things get a lot more real when you end up in a room alone with them. It’s a risk I’d really rather not take. How did you play things when you were a pickpocket?”

  
“Pretty much how you just described. I’d go for people who seemed a little drunk if possible, because they were a lot less likely to remember my face and would probably attribute any lost money to the number of drinks they bought. When necessary, sure, I’d lead people on to distract them. But I never needed it to last long. I’m with you on this whole situation. I bet you could pull it off much better than I did though.”

  
Jenny smiled. “No way. With you, there’s...mystery, and intrigue.”

  
“Oh, that’s what we’re calling my lack of social skills?”

  
Now she was laughing. “See? You have a way with people!”

  
Delilah raised a sceptical eyebrow. “A way of reducing them to such a fragile state that they start giggling uncontrollably?”

  
“Don’t mock me!” Jenny gave her shoulder an effortless slap. “A way of making them want to talk to you, find out more about you. With me, what you see is what you get. A poor girl in need of money and attention.”

  
Delilah groaned. “We’re all in need of money and attention, try as I might to deny the latter. That doesn’t mean your manipulative skills are in any way decreased.”

  
“I know, but...I don’t want to be like that, you know? I know it comes with the territory, and it’s what I need to do to provide for these people that have become my family - but it’s not me. I’ve been subject to the cruelty of this world. I ended up on the streets and if Dutch hadn’t found me, there isn’t a doubt that I’d have died by the end of the month. And yet, I don’t feel happy when I have the chance to ‘get back at the world’ as some put it. Because they may not be perfect, but I’m still tricking mostly decent people.” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “How do you deal with it?”

  
Delilah shrugged. “By not having a conscience, I guess. You don’t need to feel ashamed of wanting to be decent. With any luck, that’s exactly what you’ll be able to do once the gang gets enough money to migrate out west, or whatever the plan is. You’ll be able to start over.”

  
Jenny sighed and a sad smile twitched at the corners of her lips. “From the way you’re speaking, I assume you don’t think you’ll still be with us then.”

  
Delilah gave a humourless laugh. “Not a chance of that. Don’t get me wrong, I intend to treat this gang as much like my own friends as you do. But there’s no way I’ll be able to retire. I’m afraid criminality has made a home in what little heart I have.”

  
“Well,” Jenny gave her shoulder a friendly pat. “I hope you’ll find whatever you’re looking for with this gang, and that we can change you in the way you’re hoping. But I don’t mind saying, I could totally see us as sisters.”

  
The comment was so random that Delilah laughed. “Really? Why? Is it our dark hair?”

  
“And the fact that we’re polar opposites, but still good friends. Let’s just hope by the end that we will be as good as family.”

  
“I’m not sure that’s something you want to wish for. But your kindness is very much appreciated. I might even give you a minor hug if I weren’t holding the reins.”

  
“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She said these words with mock emotion as Valentine emerged before them. Two ranchers were driving a herd of sheep into the auction pen on the outskirts. They crossed the railway tracks and Delilah guided the wagon to a safe parking spot off the main road. The three girls in the back leapt off with anticipation.

  
“Right,” Karen placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the terrain. “Back in this heap. Come on you two, we’ll start at the saloon. I have no doubt we’ll be able to find plenty of idiots ready to tell us their deepest secrets in exchange for a pretty smile. Jenny, Delilah, you two coming with us?”

  
“Nah, we’ll get the food from the general store and meet you back here in-“ Delilah checked her watch, “an hour?”

  
The others nodded their agreement, and Karen, Tilly and Mary-Beth headed towards the saloon. Jenny was ready to follow in their footsteps to reach the general store, but Delilah put out an arm and stopped her.

  
“Actually...would you mind if I went to the post office quickly? You can stay here with the wagon.”

  
Jenny was too curious for that. “No thank you. I’ll come with you.”

  
They turned around and headed downhill along the dry path of mud.

  
“So - are you expecting any mail?”

  
“Yes, actually. The monthly payment from someone I’m blackmailing.”

  
Jenny’s jaw dropped. “No way!”

  
“No, that was a joke.”

  
“Alright, what are you waiting for?”

  
“The post.”

  
“Enough of that. Now I’m really interested. You’d better tell me, Delilah. I’m far too fascinated to stop asking questions now.”

  
“It’s really nothing exciting. Just a possible letter from an old friend.”

  
“Really? Then why didn’t you want the other girls to know about it?”

  
“I didn’t see the point in delaying them when we could put them to work straight away.”

  
“Fine, I’ll stop with the questions. As long as you let me read the letter.”

  
“Are you serious?”

  
“Of course not. It’s your mail, Delilah. I’ll only look at it if you’re happy for me to do so.”

  
“Much better.”

  
They walked up the wooden ramp and through the double doors of the post office. Just like the one in Rhodes, it opened onto the train platform. Delilah walked up to the clerk.

  
“Hello, do you have any mail for Delilah Lopez?”

  
“One second, please.”

  
He quickly scanned the shelves and handed her an almost pristine white envelope, with the exception of her name and the address. It had clearly just arrived today.

She couldn’t resist smiling a little. They had never failed to stay in regular contact. Even after all this time.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jenny with her back turned, reading the notices on the notice board. “Thank you.” She leaned on the counter and asked, “do you have a spare envelope and piece of paper? I’ll want to write back.”

  
He gave Delilah these items, and she gave him a dollar to compensate. Sucking in air, she seated herself on one of the varnished benches and ripped open the envelope.

Inside were two sheets of paper, one with writing and one with an elegant ink drawing of a girl. The lines were bold and stubborn, and Delilah knew automatically that this was a feisty person. Her pupils didn’t look straight through the paper, but off into the distance to the left. She looked wistful, longing even.

It took her a few glances to recognise that it was a drawing of her, and not just that - her almost as she looked now, as opposed to how she’d looked two years ago. He had made her slightly more beautiful in places, with slimmer eyebrows and flawless skin, which definitely contrasted the gradually fading bruise she now had at the top of her forehead after the whole bear ordeal. Needless to say, she liked his drawing better, be it his actual perception of her ageing or his idealised version.

  
“That’s a really nice drawing!” Jenny walked over cheerfully, and then stopped in astonishment when she realised what Delilah had. “Wait, is that you?”

  
Delilah handed her the drawing. “Especially good given that it’s been almost two years since we saw each other.”

  
“And this person doesn’t have your photo?”

  
“Well, I’m fairly sure he has a photo of how I used to look, but definitely not how I look currently.”

  
“He’s really talented! And, um...who is he, again?”

  
Delilah turned to the letter. “A friend.”

  
“Like Lenny’s a friend to me, you mean?”

  
“Is that meant to offend me or Lenny?”

  
Jenny sighed and sat down next to her, automatically causing Delilah to fold the letter. “I know why the other girls are always asking me what I think about him, although I deny it to their faces. It’s fairly obvious he has feelings for me, but-“

  
“You don’t like him back.”

  
“Yeah. And I feel bad for him, because he deserved to love someone who could feel the same way about him. He’s a lovely person, but I just can’t see us together. And I really don’t know what to do sometimes.”

  
“You don’t have to distress him by telling him you don’t feel the same way. But if he does confess his feelings to you, you do realise that you have to admit the truth, right? That’s much nicer than ending up in a relationship you aren’t invested in, and will just end up draining you both.”

  
“Yeah, I know. The whole reason I brought up me and Lenny was...is that how it is with you and this person you won’t name?”

  
“No. I said we were just friends.”

  
Jenny narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  
“Why on earth not?”

  
“Well - you and him write to each other regularly, and he draws pictures of you.”

  
“You say that like it settles the matter.”

  
“It does, in my book.”

  
“Has it occurred to you that my past might not be nearly as interesting as you seem to think? Besides, he’s just showing off with the drawing.”

She took it back from Jenny, folded it and put it in her pocket, then turned to face Jenny so the girl couldn’t read the letter while Delilah did. Jenny just gave an innocent smile and said, “if you say so,” before retreating to read more notices.

  
Delilah reopened the letter and felt relieved to see that it was double sided, and written in the usual small but careless handwriting. Her fingertips skimmed the ink lazily. She could tell it was expensive - but then again, he had no reason to spare any expense given his monthly ‘income’. Unable to resist the anticipation any longer, Delilah guided her eyes to the top of the page.

  
DL,  
I can already picture you rolling your eyes as a result of the attached drawing, but as you are well aware, we both have a tendency for boastfulness and I feel my drawing skills are more than worthy of such note, especially when considering your constant complaints of how little talent you seem to possess in such an area. It makes a nice contrast, wouldn’t you say? Not to rub it in.  
Business is going very well, with several successful takes over the last few weeks. I confess that I may have reverted to standard stage coach and shop robberies, albeit with my normal discretion, but it has been necessary to keep a low profile. A ‘very wealthy client’ has approached me ‘by proxy’ (chances are that the proxy was the client, but to question such declarations would make for very little profit, as you well know) and has asked me to eliminate any remaining KKK factions in the region. This would require me to infiltrate the organisation under the guise of joining it myself, which would take a significant amount of time - establishing myself as one who shares their ideals, gaining trust and so on. I am never one to turn down a challenge, however this will be such a lengthy process that I must ask if a friendly reunion between the two of us factors into your immediate plans for the future. If not, I will accept this task and the accompanying perils, and eventually earn a reward of $5000, which will more than suffice to pay for any and all alcohol we consume while discussing what you have been up to recently, once we finally reunite.   
Which brings me onto my next point. To hear every few weeks, not of your successful robberies, blackmailing and other entertaining exploits, but instead of the amount you make from pickpocketing, is dull at best. I did not give up three perfectly good months of my life to train someone I think incapable of rivalling myself in the field of gunslinging. I do not presume to tell you how to live your life, as the first day of our encounter proved to both of us, but wasted potential irritates me. If it is concern about your own capabilities that drives you to such a fickle pursuit, I give you my utmost assurance that your fears are ridiculous. Within weeks of us meeting you could already shoot and hunt just as well as most professionals. If you say it is moral worries that restricts you from those endeavours, I don’t doubt you will forgive me for considering you a liar. Should something else be the issue, name it and I will do all I can to help you overcome it.  
This is all a very roundabout way of saying that I think we act most successfully when we cooperate. The two of us never really trusted each other, and with good reason, yet I venture so far as to call you a friend. When distance comes between us for over two years, I worry that this friendship has either disintegrated or is not requited. It is not merely for boastfulness that I draw how I envision you. I fear I will forget your face, and you have not sent a photograph of yourself. Having helped you eliminate your most major problems, I have no intention of becoming the next one. If you wish for our correspondence to end, you need only say the word. I never wanted to pressure or influence you - until I saw you had more than made your own choices about what style of life to live, and you remain adamant that you will continue down it. So my question is, what have I done to drive you away? Or what motivates you to turn away from one who merely desires to see you happy?  
I confess, that I drove a wedge between us when I left you to fulfil your gunslinging dreams alone. I apologise if that wasn’t what you wanted, but I have found that nothing helps clear the mind and strengthen the body as efficiently as independent training, which I am certain has made you into the person you are. I respect whatever choice you may make regarding our friendship.   
RVL

  
As her eyes shifted to the empty space at the bottom of the reverse of the paper, Delilah felt conflicted. She hadn’t given a thought to how he might feel about her joining a gang without discussing it with him, whereas he had asked whether him going after the KKK would interfere with her plans.

On the other hand, one second he was saying he didn’t want to pressure her, and the next he was ‘politely’ suggesting that a life as an outlaw would be best for her, for the sole reason that he thought she’d do well at it. Not that she wasn’t flattered, but it irritated Delilah. There was a slight consolation in the fact that, on the surface, he appeared just as indecisive as she tended to be, but Delilah doubted that was really the truth of it - as always, his letters were just as duplicitous as his character. More likely he was revelling in his ability to influence her and he wanted her to know it.

Unfortunately, that was more than a little ironic given that, by joining the Van der Linde gang, Delilah had now distanced herself from him more than a little.

  
With an tired and bored heart, she turned to her spare paper to write the reply.

  
RVL,  
For one who doesn’t presume to tell me what to do, you presume far too much. I have been more than practicing my gunslinging skills, and have decided to put them to use by joining the Van der Linde gang. We are camped at Horseshoe Overlook, so I remain close to Valentine. I regret not asking your opinion before I made this decision, but seeing how insistent you are that I make my own decisions free of pressure from others, I would hope little harm has been done to our long-standing friendship. Since joining this gang, I have already killed a Grizzly (with the help of another, I admit), and confronted the famous stage coach robber Fenton Jones, which resulted in his tragic death in an avalanche and me walking away with his life’s earnings. I also managed to put your trick of shooting to disable a gun into practice during that encounter, and it worked magnificently. I too now consider myself, as you put it, ‘one capable of rivalling [yourself] in the field of gunslinging’, and have decided that my talents would be best used in service of a gang which stands out due to its belief that there is good in humanity and that society can be reformed. With any luck, such beliefs will encourage me to alter my own.   
And this leads nicely to my next point. You asked why I seem to distance myself from you, and I guess all I can say is that when we’re together, I’m more inclined to give into the side of my nature you saw on the night we met. I am aware that seems more than a little hypocritical, but I believe I can change, and am far too fed up with my old style of living not to try. It seems that although we both tired of my pickpocketing, each of us had a different solution, and I do regret that at the time, I wasn’t bothered to hear yours, however it probably wouldn’t have changed my decision. I will always value your advice, but I do know that there is certain amount of influence we have over each other that I wish weren’t as effective as it is. I intend to ensure the power of that influence has been reduced before we reunite.   
I will stay with this gang as long as possible. I already have a few good friends here, and with any luck, that will soon extend to the rest of the members. That should not stop us from our usual communication and the occasion meeting in person. Please don’t assume that because I am now working with people other than yourself that I don’t value everything you’ve sacrificed for me. Without your generous dedication, I wouldn’t even be able to write this letter, as you well know.  
Hope to see you soon,   
DL

  
Delilah reread her words with a sigh. Truly pathetic in a way only she could pull off, but it got the point across. Knowing that if she thought about it much longer, she’d work herself up into an absolute frenzy wondering if she’d written the right thing, Delilah folded the letter, placed it in the envelope, sealed and addressed it. She then handed it to the clerk with the appropriate fee, and headed over to Jenny.

  
“Sorry that took so long. Shall we get the food?”

  
“It would be an honour.”

  
They headed back up the mud soaked slope towards the main body of Valentine. Delilah decided to pick a subject for the conversation before Jenny defaulted to her letters.

  
“Are the gang considering you for any approaching jobs?”

  
“Not that I’m aware of. And I’m actually grateful. Criminal activity is stressful for me. The rest of you seem to rather enjoy it.”

  
Delilah shrugged. “Guilty. Of feeling that way. I don’t feel guilty about it.”

  
Jenny raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t phrase that very well, but I know what you mean. I’ll just never understand why.”

  
“Neither will I. Either there’s something seriously wrong with us, or-“ Delilah gave a cheerful smile, “you’re just an extreme case of good-heartedness.”

  
“The latter isn’t very likely.” Jenny gave a grateful smile. “But thank you for considering it nonetheless. Say what you will, you’re a great addition to this gang.”

  
“It’s hard to see how anything could be added to the gang. It’s loving, successful, has a sense of morality - not that that comes high on my own criteria - and values everyone’s input equally.”

  
“I know. The moment I started talking to people after I’d first arrived, I knew I’d found a lifelong family. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else the day I die.”

  
“They certainly are a very lovely bunch.”

  
“What about you? Would you like to die with friends beside you?”

  
“There’s only one way I’m interested in dying, thank you.”

  
“How?”

  
“In my sleep.”

  
It took a few seconds for the funny side to sink in. Jenny laughed briefly before asking, “Seriously?”

  
“Well, that or in combat. As long as it’s quick and relatively painless, I won’t be complaining.”

  
“That’s the best anyone can hope for these days.”

  
“True.”

  
“To be absolutely honest, I’d probably be happy with death as long as the rest of the gang were safe. That’s the one thing I want to achieve in this life. Get them all somewhere they can be happy.”

  
“That’s inspiring, Jenny.”

  
“Isn’t it just that. Do you have something you want to achieve before you die?”

  
“In true Delilah fashion, no. Just to cause absolute havoc in this life.”

  
“I thought so.”

  
They arrived at the end of Valentine’s row of shops, and headed into the general store. Jenny read out the list of all the food they needed, while Delilah took out the cash from the large amount of money she had earned after robbing Fenton. The three of them then carried the sacks of food over to the wagon.

  
“So, why are you girls being made to do the shopping? Your parents in the army or something?”

  
“Yes, exactly.” Jenny gave a sweet smile. “We’ve been having to take care of our farm together. That’s why my sister is so heavily armed. She’s had to protect us from rustlers and the like.”

  
“I never knew you had a sister!” The shop owner turned to Delilah. “All these years I’ve seen you in my shop and I never bothered to ask!”

  
“Don’t get worked up about it, I never asked you anything either.”

  
“Will I be seeing more of you two from now on?”

  
Jenny sighed regretfully. “Who knows. Our farm’s been doing well, we’re very self sufficient. Shame, I’d love to talk more.”

  
“Well, you two are always welcome.” He heaved a sack of potatoes onto the back of their wagon. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll be back with the rest of your purchases.”

  
As he headed away, Delilah turned to Jenny with raised eyebrows.

  
“Good thinking there. It would seem the sister story is more believable than I originally anticipated.”

  
“I told you! Sorry that whenever you go back to that shop, you’ll have to act like it’s true.”

  
“Nothing to worry about. Hopefully I’ll be sticking with you people for a while, and I’ll go wherever you go next. Arthur said something about Blackwater.”

  
Jenny nodded with excitement. “Dutch has been talking about it. I think that’s what Trelawny is up to right now, other than scouting out new job opportunities. He’s seeing if there’ll be a suitable place for us to set up camp. You see, they’re thinking that we could camp right on the city outskirts, posing as workers who’ve recently lost our jobs or something. That way we’ll have easy access to any jobs we may choose to do.”

  
“Right next to the city? That could be pretty dangerous.”

  
“It’s the art of ‘hiding in plain sight’. I’m willing to bet you’ve robbed that shop keeper many times and here you are, chatting politely.”

  
“Fair enough. But still, with such a large group of people-“

  
“It’ll work, I’m sure of it. All Dutch’s plans have this long. The gang is doing really well.

Yesterday I overheard Dutch telling Hosea that our collective funds sum to about fifteen thousand dollars. And a large part of that is thanks to you.”

  
“That much is true.”

  
“What I’m saying is, I really hope you’re still around when we decide it’s time to head down to Blackwater. With you there, we’ll only do even better than we already are.”

  
“Very well, I will happily go to Blackwater with the rest of you, assuming I’m still around then. But you never know what might happen before then. The law might catch up to us, and then we’ll have to flee as far from a place like Blackwater as we can manage.”

  
“I doubt that’ll happen. But I guess you’re right, we do need to be prepared.”

  
The shop keeper came back over with the two last sacks of food, one large one of fruit and vegetables, and another far lighter bag with less healthy food.   
“There we go you two, hope everything goes well with your farm.”

  
Jenny beamed. “I’m sure it will, especially with all this delicious food. Should be more enough to help us through the approaching cold.”

  
“Good luck to both of you.” He gave them a kind of salute and headed back into his shop. Jenny turned to Delilah looking pleased with herself.

  
“I dare say we’re doing a pretty good job. Shall we head to the saloon and check on the others?”

  
“Actually, I was thinking, do you have a gun of your own?”

  
“Not one I own personally, but the camp’s weapons have always done fine for me.”

  
“Would you like one?”

  
“If you’re suggesting I buy a gun, I’m afraid I don’t have much cash on me.”

  
“Luckily, I do.” Delilah started walking towards the gunsmith and Jenny hurried to catch up.

  
“Come on, you don’t have to do that. I’m perfectly fine with the weapons I use right now.”

  
“I want to. I literally never buy anything for anyone except myself, and I have more than enough money right now thanks to stealing all of Fenton’s. Might as well put it to good use buying something for a friend.”

  
“Knowing you, I doubt I’ll be able to change your mind.”

  
“Correct.”

  
Delilah pushed open the door and ushered Jenny inside. Ignoring the look from the man behind the counter, she opened the catalogue and slid it over to Jenny.

  
“Anything you want, I’ll pay for it.”  
She gave a look of gratitude.

“Thank you so much. I’ll find some way to pay you back.”

  
“Not at all. This is my first attempt at an act of generosity.”

  
Jenny grinned as she looked at the different revolvers on offer.

“Do you have any recommendations?”

  
Both Delilah and the gunsmith opened their mouths, but Jenny held out a hand to stop him.

“Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you. Delilah?”

  
“My personal favourite will always be the Mauser pistol. I have very good shooting accuracy, so the high rate of fire works perfectly for me. However, for you-“ she flicked through the catalogue until she found the right page, “I think the Schofield revolver would be great. Very powerful and easy to work with.”

  
“I’ll take your word on that.” Jenny turned to the gunsmith. “A Schofield please.”

  
He slid the pistol across to her. Jenny opened her mouth to thank him, but Delilah put out an arm to stop her.

  
“Do you have any that are engraved?”

  
He muttered, “I suppose,” and started rummaging behind the counter. Jenny sighed.

  
“You really don’t have to.”

  
“It doesn’t cost much more. Besides, what’s interesting about buying you a gun you could easily have found in some attic? If I want to do this properly, by right I ought to get you something out of the ordinary.”

  
The gunsmith held up one with silver swirls and one with a golden grip. Jenny put her hands on her hips and groaned. “I can’t decide.”

  
Delilah shrugged. “Flip a coin. It’s a pretty useful trick - if you really don’t mind either outcome, you’ll be happy with whatever you get, but if it lands on an outcome you’re not happy with, you’ll know you wanted the other one.”

  
“Fine.” Jenny took out a dollar. “This side is gold, the other is silver.” She flipped and caught it. The coin was saying silver. “I’m happy with that.”

Delilah handed the money to the gunsmith, who was looking rather weary, with extra for the ammunition, and the two of them left with their new purchases. Jenny gazed at the weapon in awe.

  
“It’s really beautiful, Delilah. I can’t thank you enough.”

  
“You’re very welcome. Hopefully you won’t have to use it too often.”

  
“Like you said, we do need to be prepared. And this way, if you do ever end up leaving the gang, I’ll have something to remember you by.”

  
“That’s the idea.”

  
They arrived back at the wagon. Delilah climbed into the back and over into the front seating. “I’ll stay here while you go and see how the others are doing.”

  
Jenny gave a wave as she strolled away, and Delilah sat there wishing she’d brought her journal. Now would really be the time for some in depth, emotional poetry, but maybe it was better she didn’t do any writing. She wasn’t really thinking clearly at the moment.

Would it last, any of it? Her experience with this gang, although surprisingly pleasant, made her more fearful than reassured. Any time, this could all be lost. And when it was - Delilah would never stoop so low as to return to pickpocketing. She knew she’d only have one option, and it meant giving in to his requests. She didn’t want to. She wasn’t ready to see him again yet.

  
Valentine was exactly as it had always been. People bouncing back and forth between the wooden buildings as if on set tracks, the occasional bark of a dog overshadowed by the wheels of a cart carving its way through the mud. Yells of discontent, more often than not ending in a brutal brawl or duel. She had actually never been in a duel before. That was a crucial part of the gunslinging experience she was missing, although she felt that her face off against Fenton more than made up for it.

That made Delilah wonder what his death had been like. Was he lucky enough to be hit by a falling boulder, or was he entrapped under so many feet of freezing snow that he eventually died a horrible death of pneumonia? Despite everything, she hoped it was the first one he had been subjected to. To wish him a cruel death, when she lived no better than him, would be hypocritical at best. Besides, Delilah couldn’t honestly say she would have behaved any differently to him. If some entitled bounty hunter showed up and tried to make off with all her money, she wouldn’t be happy to let them get away with it either.

Important it may be to remember that in this profession, you can’t always win, but those weren’t her choice rules. Thus far, she had never lost to anyone, and didn’t intend for that to change.

  
“Delilah!” She turned to see the four girls leaving the saloon and walking towards her. Jenny climbed up next to her and the other three found space along with the bags in the back. Delilah reversed the wagon and turned it back in the direction of Horseshoe Overlook.

Jenny repeated her thanks with multiple different phrasings, and then moved to giving her own assessment on Valentine.

  
“It’s a little dull, I’ll give you that - particularly to you I suppose, given that you’ve been down here for years - but it’s a nice enough town. Not that I’d want to live in it. That would stress me out.”

  
“As always, your first impressions are pretty much accurate. I didn’t actually live here, but I lived nearby and it really worried me that so many people congregate nearby on a daily basis. Probably just my paranoia that one or more of them would turn to investigating the house I was living in.”

  
“If they had, I doubt they would have lived much longer.”

  
“You’ve got that right. Anyway, did the girls find anything useful?”

  
“Nothing of much note. Karen was trying to inquire about the bank, but she had to back down when some guy threatened to tell the sheriff she was ‘harassing’ him. Mary-Beth was chatting to some poker players and managed to make off with some of their cash.”

  
“In that case, I feel very sorry for the losing player. He’ll have trouble paying up.”

  
“Tell me about it. Tilly managed to steal a wedding ring off some fellow. Before you say anything, she heard him bragging about how he stole it off a corpse. The man was probably an O’Driscoll anyway.”

  
“I’m in no position to criticise anyway. Sounds like a reasonably good day’s work.”

  
“It still pales in comparison to your recent takes.”

  
“I recommend you get out of the habit of comparing others’ behaviour to mine. It doesn’t make for very good standards.”

  
“In case you can’t tell, I’m trying to compliment you to make up for the large sum of money you just spent on me.”

  
“I feared as much. How many ways must I say it? You don’t owe me anything.”

  
“Alright, I get it. Doesn’t get rid of my morally induced obligations.”

  
“It is alarming how many of your problems would be solved by a simple lack of morality.”

  
“Tragically, it is not simple for me.” Jenny put on an expression of fake distress, which Delilah pretended to slap off with a free hand. “Well that made me feel a lot better.”

  
“Glad to hear it.” Delilah turned the wagon off the road and guided it up the glade-enclosed hill towards their campsite. “Ah, home again.”

  
“‘Home’, eh? I guess that’s progress.”

  
“It’s not like I have another one.”

  
“Thank you, Delilah. Once again you ruin my attempts to be inclusive.”

  
“With good reason.”

  
Parking the wagon beside Pearson’s, all five girls climbed down and began updating the other camp members about the successes of their trip. Delilah helped Pearson and Davey carry the food down and sort it properly.

  
“Well, Miss Lopez, I am surprised that at least one of your trips out of camp hasn’t resulted in bloodshed.” Davey said, giving her a friendly pat on the back.

  
“I share in your surprise. Although I wouldn’t let your guard down, I can only go downhill from here.”

  
He laughed and patted the top of her hat. Delilah felt highly grateful she had been wearing it, otherwise he probably would have messed with her hair, which she hated. Retrieving her journal from its resting place, she seated herself near the cliff edge, her back against a nearby tree. It was a spectacular view - a better poet would have a field day with the potential sublime imagery. But as per usual, Delilah defaulted to other subjects.

  
I beg you, release me from my cage  
Let us be equals in something other than bitterness and jealousy.  
For work is made for idle and lonely hands  
One often has a scab that is an inkblot upon the paper of their skin  
Is it left to fade from memory? No-  
It is scratched and torn until uprooted, blood, gore and all  
And drops of red trickle down arms like ugly tears.  
We are one and the same, two sides of the same coin  
You outlined my life  
I just wish I could colour in between the lines  
For all my demands are futile.  
I beg you to release me  
When I threw away the key.

  
Finished, Delilah set the book down in front of her with its pages open so that the ink could dry. Her head sank back against the trunk as her eyes drifted upwards to admire the sky and the landscape huddled beneath it. This would be a great time to take advantage of Grimshaw’s absence and get some rest. Her eyes fell shut, the picturesque scene melting away before her.

The remaining hours of the day were hazy at best. Delilah forced herself to do some camp chores and engaged in some fairly pleasant but meaningless discussion with Mary-Beth and Lenny at dinner. Well, that was relative of course - it probably meant a lot to the other two.

Pulling the blankets over her that evening, Delilah hoped for dreams of a time that she wouldn’t call simpler - maybe more significant. She woke after a dreamless sleep.  
Over the next two days, it was difficult to dedicate her full attention to any more demoralising duties when she could only think about one thing. The postal service never took more than twenty-four hours to deliver letters to their destination, assuming that the train carrying the letters hadn’t been intercepted by some passing gang of criminals. That meant that after forty-eight hours, her letter would have been read and the reply sent back.

  
Once this time period was over, Delilah made some excuses and headed into Valentine. She hitched Lorelei outside the post office, headed inside and collected her letter. Wanting somewhere private to read it, she crossed the train tracks and stood just outside the town as she opened the envelope. The folded paper inside was not double sided, but only had a few short paragraphs on the inner side.

  
DL,  
Of course I understand your choices. Your decisions are your own, and I would support them if they weren’t so utterly ridiculous. We both know there is absolutely no chance you will change your ways. Do you seek absolution, or merely an escape from the truth of who you are, which never seemed to bother you until I started recommending such actions. A more distrusting person might assume you are deliberately staying away from me, and it raises questions about exactly what type of ‘influence’ you refer to. I’d be happy to wager that your association with this gang will be terminated within two months, either because they tire of you or because you (in)directly cause them to see that you have as much regard for their morals as you have for family.  
The news of your sharpshooting skills does bring me joy. I’m sure they will only continue to develop, what with such a positive and welcoming living environment, free of judgement and negative influence. Who would have thought such a group of outlaws existed! While you explore your destiny alongside those greater men and women, I will be pursuing the KKK as previously discussed. This job may take weeks, even a month, and I do not think it would be safe for our correspondence to continue while I will be in such a precarious situation. Do not bother replying to this letter. I will write to you when the time of danger has passed. Until then, I will be settling into a new life as an extremist, which will include sampling the unique opportunities here in town. The venison is simply mouth-watering, and I’ve heard stories of a distinguished prostitution business. Expect such rumours to be confirmed when we next talk.  
All the best,   
RVL

  
Delilah reread the letter until she could take it no more. In one motion, she crushed it in her fist and threw the scrunched remains onto the train tracks. The envelope slipped from her fingers in the breeze and she was left with nothing to cling to but her own rage. The only words which escaped her lips did so quietly and with great disdain.

  
“Damn you, Roger.”


	5. Undercover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delilah heads to Blackwater to find Josiah.

Delilah returned to camp after having walked around Valentine aimlessly for about ten minutes, decided that she would try her hardest to put the letter out of her mind. Her first thought for how she could distract herself was a conversation with Josiah, which led on naturally to the question of where he was. It was two days ago that he’d gone to Blackwater, scouting out new job opportunities, and he hadn’t come back since. Maybe Dutch had received word from him.

  
She headed over to Dutch’s tent. Molly was standing inside fanning herself, and Dutch and Lenny were sitting on chairs outside having an intense philosophical discussion.

  
“As fascinating as Evelyn Miller is, may I interrupt?”

  
“Miss Lopez!” Dutch closed the open book in his lap and looked up at her. “What can I do for you? We don’t have any jobs planned, at least none one person short, if that’s what you’re interested in.”

  
“It’s not. Have you received any mail from Josiah lately?”

  
“Trelawny? I don’t think so.”

  
“Well, should he have been back by now? Isn’t it odd he hasn’t written?”

  
“Not at all. We’ve lost track of him for months in the past before he showed up with excellent information.”

  
Delilah sighed. “If you say so. I might just head down there and check on him if you don’t mind, seeing as I have nothing better to do. Is there a particular hotel he’s staying at?”

  
“The reputable one. It’s the only major saloon, very fancy, in the centre of the town. You’ll know it when you see it.”

  
“Thanks. I don’t suppose he would have been using a fake name?”

  
“It’s quite possible, although Mr Trelawny tends to rely on his nonchalant and appeasing demeanour to con even the most sophisticated members of society into trusting him.”

  
“That much I knew. Thank you again, Dutch. If he’s fine I’ll be back today, if he’s in trouble I’ll stay as long as it takes to help him out. Either way, I’ll handle it.”

  
“Glad to hear it. Enjoy yourself in Blackwater, Miss Lopez.”

  
“I know I will.” She gave the two of them a wave of her hand as a salute and headed over to her bedding to collect some more ammunition. Jenny and Mary-Beth were both reading nearby.

  
“Delilah!” Jenny immediately hurried over. “Are you going somewhere?”

  
“Blackwater.” She made sure her ammunition belt and the straps of bullets across her body were fully loaded. “I just want to check on Josiah. I know he’s almost certainly alright, but I haven’t been out of the Heartlands for a few days and I’d like to take my mind off things.”

  
“That sounds lovely. I hope everything goes well down there. I’m well aware it isn’t a paradise, but I can’t wait to see Blackwater for myself when the gang heads down there.”

  
“You’re welcome to come with me if you’d like.”

  
“No thank you, I don’t want to ruin the surprise for myself. Besides, you two deserve to have the town to yourselves.”

  
“Whatever that means. I’ll see you when I get back.”

  
“I look forward to it.”

  
Delilah headed over to Lorelei, who was currently finishing off a hay bale along with Silver Dollar and the Count. She stroked her horse’s mane and combed the hairs with her fingers.

  
“Hey girl. Fancy a trip to some more open pastures?” She knew better than to expect an answer when her horse was eating. “It’s not like you have a choice in the matter, but I do think you’ll enjoy this trip. We’ve been there before, quite a while ago. The town will have changed a lot since then. Not that you care about any of this, what with the whole ‘being a horse’ thing you’ve got going on.”

All this time, the horses continued licking up the last remnants of the hay. “Point is, it only just occurred to me that we haven’t been to a stable together in ages. We could smarten up your mane and tail and I could use my cash to buy a better saddle. It’d be a win-win for the both of us. So basically, any time you want to stop eating those crumbs and get ready for quite a ride, don’t hold back on my account.”

  
“Are you talking to your horse?” Delilah looked up to see Bill Williamson looking thoroughly confused.

  
“I fear I am. Why, is there a law against it?”

  
Bill frowned in confusion. “Can’t say I’m all that familiar with the law.”

  
“But you do know that being in a gang of thieves is against the law?”

  
“Oh yes.”

  
“And you do know...that you are in a gang of thieves?”

  
Bill threw his arms up in exasperation. “Why does everyone assume I’m an idiot? Of course I know that!”

  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to annoy you. I had no idea that a simple joke would be so offensive.”

  
Bill just gave a wave of his hand, which could be interpreted as exasperation or forgiveness, and walked away. Delilah ensured all Lorelei’s horse tack was properly attached before mounting up and heading out of camp at a trot.

*****

As the campsite faded into the distance, she dug her knees in with more force and Lorelei headed downhill at a canter. They departed the isolated glade and turned towards the river.

As she emerged into the sunlight, Delilah narrowed her eyes with displeasure as she saw the light turn parts of her luscious dark hair to slices of pale grey that stung her eyes. The sun was out in full force and yet she made no attempt to remove her jacket. She only wore a thin shirt underneath and couldn’t trust that the sun’s rays wouldn’t damage her skin. It ought not to matter what her flesh looked like when it was the possession of a gun that earned her respect, but Delilah saw no reason to cause herself any more discomfort than necessary, and besides, taking care of one’s physical self was important when you aimed to intimidate.

That reminded her that it had been a while since she’d had a bath. Delilah decided she’d be able to use the bath at the hotel in Blackwater, a worthy reward for the journey she was about to take.

  
Droplets of water sprang up to soothe her warm legs as she guided Lorelei across the river. As this temporary relief from the heat reassured her, Delilah wondered what changes she would find when she arrived at Blackwater. There would probably be a lot of law, so it would be wise not to lose her temper should any tricky situations arise, challenging as it would be.

Hopefully everything would be fine - she’d meet up with Josiah at the hotel, or find him somewhere in the town, and then the two of them would have a lovely day talking about the usual nonsense. At the end of the day, she’d head back to camp and he would either stay or accompany her back. Preferably the latter. This wasn’t a time at which Delilah wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

  
On that note, how dare he. How dare Roger disregard her choice simply because he thought it pointless and hypocritical, mock her opinions of the gang and then blatantly state he would be sleeping with prostitutes, probably his pathetic idea of revenge. But then again, it was working. The sheer thought had twisted its way into her head and wrapped itself around her skull like thin, bony arms.

Was that really what bothered her, or was it the knowledge that he hadn’t even attempted to persuade her to rethink her choice, merely gone straight to others?

  
And that was exactly what she did to him when she joined the gang without even consulting Roger, as if his opinion meant nothing to her. Any insult she could pin on him was worthless when it could be just as easily applied to her. They were both cruel and hypocritical people who enjoyed the power their heartless behaviour gave them, and neither liked being second choice. Both respected the other, and it was that respect that ensured they’d never truly trust one another.

In some ways it was a shame that their so-called friendship had been severed in this way, but it was probably for the best if Delilah really wanted to invest in the gang’s morals. They’d return to how things once were eventually. Her anger wouldn’t last forever, and neither would his. They’d move past this disagreement, and by then the Van der Linde gang would be even more successful, thanks to her constant contributions.

  
Delilah couldn’t help fearing that Roger was right to dismiss her efforts as futile. Her past actions had proven her incredibly cold, and she rarely let anyone see a vulnerable side to her, if such a side even existed. Yet his dismissal of her efforts was an excellent motive to strive for success, if only for the satisfaction of proving him wrong. Ironically, that would only push them further apart, showing that she had been capable of what he had warned her against.

  
What it came down to was that it shouldn’t matter what Roger thought. He had asked her not to write back, which meant that he was fed up with her, and the feeling was definitely requited.

  
Delilah grabbed her pistol and shot a rabbit running across the road in front of her. She guided Lorelei around its corpse and the spreading pool of blood, satisfied that her shooting abilities hadn’t at all reduced in the time she’d been spending at camp. It was unlikely that she would have to use them in Blackwater, but as she had told Jenny many times, one should always be prepared. Not that she had expected her sharpshooting skills to have decreased.

  
The horse and her rider passed across a small creek and up a steep incline before being greeted by the Great Plains. As the name suggested, they were indeed plains of yellowed grass stretching as far as the eye could see - depending on whether or not you could make out the cliff edge hiding the nearby river not far below. As Delilah rode along the path a herd of boar turned and fled, easing her eyes upward to the distant portrait of a town that might as well be a city, or even a mirage. She came closer and soon found herself in the town, riding past the church and its accompanying graveyard and into Blackwater itself.

Like Dutch said, the hotel and inbuilt saloon was easy to find. People sat outside playing poker at the circular green tables, and as she hitched Lorelei to one of the nearby posts, Delilah saw many more people congregated in the room inside for drinks.

Not wanting to waste time, she headed straight to the bar and ordered a beer. Delilah took her time drinking it. It may only cost a dollar, but she always wanted her money to be well spent. As she finished, she called the bartender over.

  
“Do you have a man named Josiah Trelawny staying here?”

  
The bartender frowned as he ran his mind through the no doubt long list of people who had passed through. Delilah panicked for a second as it occurred to her yet again that he may have used a false name.

  
“He’d be dressed very formally, probably a suit. Dark haired, a large moustache-“

  
“Oh, I know the one! Yes, he came back to the hotel yesterday as he said he would, and the man was promptly arrested for theft.”

  
“What?”

  
“Disgraceful, I agree. I don’t know the whole story, you’ll have to ask the fellow himself.”

  
Delilah slid her empty glass across the counter to him. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

She hurried from the hotel as quickly as possible, and climbing back onto her horse headed straight to the sheriff’s station near the edge of the town. Hitching Lorelei up outside, she paused to come up with an excuse that would allow her to talk to Josiah before walking inside.

  
She opened the door and looked over at the sheriff, who was sitting at his desk reading the newspaper.

  
“Hello, sir.” He looked up in surprise upon seeing how heavily armed she was.

  
“Uh...hello, ma’am.”

  
Delilah took off her hat and flipped it around in her hands as she scanned the jail cells. Only the far one was occupied, and she could clearly see Josiah asleep on a hard bed built against the wall.

  
She pointed to him with her hat. “What’s that man’s name?”

  
“Jeremiah Henderson, Miss.”

  
“Ah, nice to know he has used his actual name. A tribute to his earnestness. I’m Miss Anderson and I’m here representing his lawyer.”

  
The sheriff put down his newspaper with raised eyebrows. “I haven’t let him send any letters. How did his lawyer hear about this?”

  
Delilah shrugged. “Word travels quickly when something exciting happens in a town like this. What’s Mr Henderson done? Allegedly, of course.”

  
“Stolen from Mr Johns, a very powerful and wealthy man in this region who’s made several generous contributions to the new building developments here.”

  
“What did he steal?”

  
“Two thousand dollars in cash, which were found in the suitcase he had with him when he was searched at Mr Johns’ house - I believe he and some other wealthy, respectable people, unlike Mr Henderson here, were invited there for dinner, and also a selection of Mr Johns’ personal documents, which have yet to be found.”

  
“They weren’t found on Mr Henderson?”

  
“No. We can only assume your client has some serious personal grudge against Mr Johns, and destroyed them, for these documents were vital in the decision to increase the amount of law here in Blackwater, with particular attention given to funding the resources of the Pinkertons stationed across multiple states. Now that the documents containing the signatures of Mr Johns and the other governors across the neighbouring states - Mr Johns isn’t actually governor, mind you, he’s just taken charge as we haven’t quite got around to organising the elections, yet alone finding any other keen candidates - have been lost, they’ll have to draw up a new contract and send it to each governor in turn for signing. Long story short, the plans will have been delayed by almost a month. It’s awful. I was really looking forward to being able to sleep more easily.”

  
“I’m sure you were. May I speak with my client before we decide how to proceed?”

  
“Of course.”

  
Delilah pulled up a spare chair next to the bars of Josiah’s cell and knocked her knuckles against the bars. “Wake up, Henderson.”

  
Groaning, Josiah blinked in confusion as he was wrenched from sleep. “I’m innocent, I’m telling you.”

  
Delilah rolled her eyes. “As I’m sure you’ve already told them. Now, why don’t you tell me your version of events.”

  
“I warn you, anything you say can and will be used against you!” the sheriff added.

  
“Thank you, my good sir.” As he finally sat up and took in the scene before him, Josiah’s eyes settled on Delilah sitting on a chair just outside his cell, tapping her fingers atop her navy hat. He shook his head in confusion, but Delilah spoke before he could get a word in.

  
“Pleasure to meet you, Henderson. I’m Miss Anderson and I’m working here on behalf of your lawyer to prove your innocence.”

  
“Which I am,” he said, looking at the sheriff with narrowed eyes, causing the man to scratch his neck and look away awkwardly, picking up his newspaper and heading over to the window.

Josiah quickly started speaking in a hushed voice. “What’s the plan?”

  
“I keep up this façade for a while, then bribe him to let you out.”

  
“Not going to work. I’ve already offered him money and he refused, saying he didn’t take bribes, not to mention that I probably stole it.”

  
“Which you did.”

  
“Believe it or not, I do actually do some honest work.”

  
“Next time tell me something I can believe. Guess I’ll just have to ‘prove’ your innocence then. Whether I have to find the evidence or forge it myself, I’ll get you out.”

  
“And if that doesn’t work?”

  
“I’ll break you out. Normally that would be far from a final resort, but the last thing we need is this town being so filled with law on the hunt for us that the gang doesn’t have any breathing room.”

  
“That’s good thinking. Shush, he’s coming back.”

  
The sheriff sat down in his chair. He still had his newspaper open, but was watching them expectantly. Delilah coughed and turned back to Josiah with a more businesslike manner.

  
“Right. Now tell me everything that you did on the day of the robbery.”

  
Josiah drew himself as tall as possible. Delilah did pity him, she knew how much he valued his ideal standard of living. It was unfair to criticise people for an attachment to materialistic things when they came far more easily than an attachment to people. She valued the clothes she wore, especially her hat and jacket, because they distinguished the type of person she was, just as her long dark hair and firm boots inspired her confidence. She would get Josiah out of here in any way necessary.

  
“At around three, I was walking by the lake with my suitcase, which contained my usual personal effects, when I was approached by Mr Johns. He had heard of a well dressed stranger in town and decided to make my acquaintance. We talked for a while, he filled me in on everything that has been going on in Blackwater and invited me to his party that evening. For another two hours I walked round the town and went to see a film at the theatre.”

”At six I arrived at Mr Johns’ house for the party. I must say, it was a much smaller gathering than I had imagined for someone of his standing. I can only assume the other three guests he had invited were political opponents and there was some discord among them. I was probably invited to ensure things didn’t get too ugly. Anyway, we talked about nothing of significance, mainly the social and political climate of our evolving society and the challenging roles of law enforcement, while also sampling Mr Johns’ fine cuisine. I can’t say at what time exactly, but some point during dinner our host suggested that we - that being me and the other three guests - head upstairs to have at look at some of his fine antiques. In total I’d say we spent around half an hour looking things over, the four of us could wonder in and out of the rooms as we pleased. After about ten minutes, Mr Johns and I spent quite a while having a detailed discussion about the value of these objects, which led onto philosophical discussion about how much wealth and power one person should have, and how he intends to govern the city should he be elected. I want it noted that in the time it took for us to have this conversation, any of the other guests could have headed to the safe, which I heard was hidden in an ‘inconspicuous’ side room.”

  
“And how’d you hear that, eh?” muttered the sheriff.

  
“From your men actually, when they were outlining how they thought I’d stolen the money as they dragged me here, despite my protests of innocence.”

  
Delilah quickly checked her watch. It was currently just past two, but there was no telling how long it would take her to find proof of Josiah’s innocence and she wanted to get to it as soon as possible. “Go on.”

  
“We finish talking, I walk around a little longer, we head back downstairs for some post-dinner snacks, and then the party’s over. I pick up my suitcase, and head over to the hotel.”

  
“You didn’t think the suitcase weighed any more or less than usual?”

  
“I didn’t notice, I’d say it was around about the same. Not fifteen minutes after I’d sat down for a drink, a bunch of lawmen come in. They searched me and my suitcase, and found the stolen two thousand dollars in there with all the previous items I had in there removed. Those documents that were also stolen were not in there. And that pretty much explains how I ended up in Blackwater jail for a crime I did not commit.”

  
“That is yet to be decided.” The sheriff walked over to Josiah’s cell and peered at him suspiciously through the bars. “And you’ll be remaining here, under my attentive care, until your Miss Anderson here proves otherwise.”

  
Delilah stood up and placed her hat back on her head with purpose. “Sheriff, you have my thanks for letting me speak with Mr Henderson. I do hope I will be able to prove that his conscience is as clear as day. I hope it is not too much to ask for some letter from you that explains my intentions? If a heavily armed woman starts asking questions about Mr Johns and his friends people may suspect me of ill intent, and I’m sure your signature would help to reassure them that is not the case.”

  
“Of course.” He produced paper and ink from inside his desk and began writing. Delilah turned back to Josiah, mouthed “I’ll be back soon,” and contemplated her strategy. Getting the names of the other guests at Mr Johns’ party would be a good start. Hopefully they’d let her search their houses, especially when reminded that not only did she have the authority of Blackwater’s law behind her, a refusal to let her search would look extremely suspicious.

  
Delilah accepted the sheriff’s letter, folded it and put it in her pocket. “Where’s Mr Johns’ house?”

  
The sheriff pointed. “Over in that direction, very fancy house on the outskirts of town.”

  
“Thanks.” Delilah tipped her hat and was prepared to leave when he suddenly added, “We don’t need any unnecessary legal procedures. It’s Mr Johns that’s convinced of this man’s guilt. A signed letter of pardon from him should be enough for me to release Mr Henderson.”

  
“He’s really that influential here?” Delilah turned to Josiah. “One would think life here might be uncomfortable.”

  
“Far from it, ma’am. Mr Johns is a fine man.” The sheriff shook her hand and gestured to the door, which Delilah exited through and pulled shut behind her.

The moment she heard it close with a satisfying thud, Delilah sat down on the wooden porch and rested her head on her fist, wondering how they’d come to this. The moment she got Josiah out, she’d be making fun of him for getting into trouble one day after he’d arrived in Blackwater. If the so-called charming and unnoticeable Mr Trelawny had already managed to get in so much trouble, she was fearful for how things could go once the rest of the gang headed down here.

Delilah stood up and headed towards Mr Johns’ house, which she could already tell from afar was more of a mansion compared with the other buildings. It wasn’t her decision whether or not the gang would head down to Blackwater, that was up to Dutch, Hosea, and any other trusted members, which she suspected excluded her. It didn’t matter. Without a doubt, there was a good deal of money to be made in this town. Good old Mr Johns with all his antiques would be a perfect robbery target, which was probably exactly why Josiah had accepted his invitation for dinner - to get an idea of the house’s layout.

Shame that hadn’t gone as planned. Had events been different, she would currently be at the stables, getting Lorelei a better saddle and some well deserved grooming before she took a warm bath at the hotel. What a pity.

  
Two men in suits stood outside the doors and walked up to meet Delilah as she approached.

  
“What’s your business here?”

  
Delilah produced the letter, which both guards inspected with careful scrutiny. “I’m representing Mr Henderson, the man wrongfully accused of stealing documents and money from Mr Johns. I’d like to talk to Mr Johns if possible, or at least have a look at the rooms my client supposedly robbed.”

  
One guard gave the other an almost imperceptible nod of approval. He then handed the letter back to Delilah and said rather stiffly, “You may see the house, but Mr Johns may not agree to a private audience. I will escort you.”

  
Delilah followed him through the double doors and into a very spacious entry hall. Through an open door to the side, she caught sight of a dining table, chairs and glass cupboards of crockery. “Is that the room where the five of them had dinner?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“What did they eat?”

  
“I thought you were here to prove that scoundrel innocent, not critique our choices of dish.”

  
“I’m merely interested.”

  
“Well, I fail to see how the food they ate could be relevant to the robbery.”

  
“In that case, why don’t you just answer my questions rather than attempting to contribute to a job that is so far beneath someone of your great importance?”

  
Although unsure whether or not to take her seriously, the guard complied. “Mutton and vegetables. I believe they also ate some biscuits after dinner.”

  
“My deepest thanks.” Delilah strode even further into the dining room. “Where was their luggage kept?”

  
“In the storage cupboard over here.”

  
Delilah followed the guard back out into the hallway and peered into the small side room. “And it wasn’t locked or guarded?”

  
“No.”

  
“So any of the other guests could have put the money in Mr Henderson’s case?”

  
“I suppose so.”

  
“Did the others have luggage with them?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“Well, what luggage?”

  
“Excuse me!” Both Delilah and the guard turned to see a man wearing a tailored suit and glasses making his way down the stairs. His hair was the colour of rotten tree bark. “Oliver, what are you telling this lady?”

  
“Nothing, just-“

  
Delilah stepped past him and produced the sheriff’s letter. “I am here on behalf of Mr Henderson, the man wrongfully accused of stealing your money and papers. I have the permission of the sheriff to investigate this crime, and I assure you, I will find the true culprit.”

  
Mr Johns read the letter at an agonisingly slow pace. Delilah tapped her foot on the rug impatiently. “I can read it for you, if you’d like.”

  
He folded the letter and handed it back to her. “No need. Our good sheriff really shouldn’t have condoned such an intrusive investigation without my approval. I shall have to have a word with him about this.”

  
“But you aren’t the governor, are you?”

  
Nate Johns gave a smug smile. “Oh I wouldn’t count on that. I do have a lot of influence not only in this thriving town, but across the state of West Elizabeth as a whole. It is only a matter of time before that influence becomes official.” He sighed and stared into the middle distance for some time before Delilah coughed and his eyes settled on her once more. “I’m sorry, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

  
“Miss Anderson.” She considered offering a hand, but decided against it. “And I have a job to do here, which will be done with or without your permission.”

  
“Now, now, don’t be hasty. I’m not entirely opposed to your investigation, although I fear your efforts will be in vain. Your ‘client’ is a guilty man. All the evidence confirms it.”

  
“In that case, you have nothing to fear. I’ll only take up a little of your time and it won’t change the current situation, only get you more satisfaction when Mr Henderson is proclaimed guilty.”

  
Mr Johns beamed. “That was my thinking exactly! Oliver, you may go. I’ll finish showing our delightful guest around myself.”

  
Delilah feigned a smile, even though it was clearly irony. There was no chance that this man didn’t disapprove of her clothing choices, not to mention the numerous weapons, and the far from charming manner.

He was about to lead her upstairs when Delilah quickly added, “so what luggage did the other guests have?”

  
“I believe each of them had a briefcase.”

  
“Were they all black?”

  
“Naturally.”

  
“So any of them could have taken the money and the documents and mistakenly put it in Mr Henderson’s case rather than their own?”

  
“I suppose so.”

  
“And we’re also supposing that the person who put the money in Henderson’s case accidentally removed his personal effects without realising the items didn’t belong to them?”

  
Johns gave a theatrical wave of his arm. “If I were to entertain your theory that Henderson is innocent, if that’s even his real name, are you really certain this other guest didn’t put the items there on purpose? I have many enemies, and the men I invited weren’t my friends, but people with political agendas. They could have wanted to cripple my authority by making off with such important documents and a large sum of money. Not that I think there’s the slightest chance he is innocent. Your man Henderson is as guilty as sin.”

  
“On that note, I am curious about the documents. Why, having got so much money, would anyone also take documents? It would have been something else to carry besides all those notes, which the culprit would have to take downstairs to the storage cupboard and put in a suitcase without being seen.”

  
“That’s a fair point. It would have been very difficult to do without encountering one of my other guests.” He scratched his head as he contemplated the matter. “It might have been a two-person job, or even three. I wouldn’t be shocked to hear the others all collaborated to humiliate me and used Henderson as a scapegoat.”

  
“Then why are you so convinced of Henderson’s guilt? Any of your four guests could have been responsible and yet you’re so sure it was him.”

  
“Well, Mr Henderson was new to town. He hadn’t heard of my...esteemed reputation. Had any of the others dared to steal from me, they would have been well aware of the repercussions.”

  
“If Henderson didn’t know your position, how did he know you were so wealthy? And why would he be interested in taking the documents? I spoke to him at the sheriff’s station. He told me what you talked about and you never mentioned any of your business deals.”

  
Mr Johns was looking highly inconvenienced. “Alright, maybe it was one of the other guests. How do you intend to tell which one?”

  
“After I’ve looked over the rooms containing your antiques and the room which was robbed, I’ll get their names and addresses from you and pay them all a visit.”

  
“And if you find nothing? What will become of Mr Henderson?”

  
Delilah knew very well that if that were the case, she’d have to resort to a less conventional method of getting Josiah out. “I guess he’ll have to stay where he is, innocent though he is.”

  
Mr Johns folded his arms with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, he won’t stay there for long. He’ll soon be put on trial, and should he be proclaimed guilty, will be spending the next few years of his life in a federal prison.”

  
He was clearly trying to provoke her, or maybe he was simply a very annoying person. Anyway, she wouldn’t let it affect her.

“Good to know. Would you show me around upstairs?”

  
“Of course. Do follow me.”

The two of them headed up the carpeted stairs to the next floor of the building. The structure of it was much the same as the ground floor, with a hallway leading to the stairs and doors separating into different storage areas for Mr Johns’ many antiques. He led Delilah down the hallway, opening each door in turn only to reveal yet more items of immense value.

The door that concealed the room with the safe was at the far end. There were numerous shelves piled with papers, and the safe stood valiantly directly opposite the entrance.

Delilah stepped inside and asked, “where were the stolen documents kept?”

  
“They were also in the safe, given their value. I can only suppose that having already stolen so much money, Mr Henderson thought he might as well try his luck with the documents as well. They were in the safe, it would be natural to assume they were also of some worth.”

  
“I suppose that’s logical.” Delilah knelt in front of the safe. “This room wasn’t locked or guarded?”

  
“No.”

  
“Well that’s stupid. What do you pay those people outside for?”

  
“I hired them after the robbery, to make sure no such events would occur again. I knew my guests were devious but I never imagined one or more of them would dare to rob me. And I’ll mind you to show me more respect.”

  
She turned to him, unmoved. “I’m not from these parts, Mr Johns. I have yet to learn why you have such influence over the people here, or to fear you as you seem convinced they ought to. That gives me no reason to be frightened of you. Any chance you had of earning my respect was thrown away when you condemned an innocent man who is a good friend of mine.”

  
“I beg your pardon?” The words were clearly meant to invite her to reconsider, but it was nothing short of futile.

  
“Don’t waste your breath. I generally don’t fear anything that I can kill with a bullet between the eyes.” Delilah turned her attention back to the safe and leaned so that her ear was close to the dial as she began to twist it. Mr Johns began to panic.

  
“What are you doing?”

  
“Testing how long it takes to crack this.”

  
“You know how to crack a safe?”

  
“Of course. Doesn’t everyone?”

  
Eighteen seconds later, the safe opened with a clunk. Inside there were several stacks of notes, and the section above was empty.

  
Delilah pointed to it. “Is this where the papers were?”

  
“Yes.” Mr Johns’ voice had become very cold. “They were all there.”

  
“Right.” Delilah closed and locked the safe before standing to face him. Johns withdrew an arm that had obviously been outstretched to prevent her doing so.

  
“I may need to reopen that. Miss Anderson, I can see you are no fool. I hope that means you will accept the sum of a thousand dollars to drop this investigation. Should you find the culprit to be someone other than Henderson, I will be humiliated for having accused him so fiercely. I beg you to take the easy way out for both of us.”

  
“My contempt for you only increases every second you draw breath, Mr Johns. You must not have heard me when I said that Henderson is my friend, if you even know the implications of that word. Now, I shall require the names and addresses of your other guests, and I’d like them written down.”

  
Without a word, she followed Mr Johns up another floor to his study, where he produced paper and ink and began writing down the information. It was a strangely structured building, but anything built to impress rarely turns out to be convenient.

Once he had taken the quill off the page, Delilah snatched up the sheet and scanned the writing. The other guests were Mr Atkinson, Mr Worthington and Mr Philmore. Two of them, Atkinson and Philmore, lived on different floors of the same building, but as Worthington was closest, it made sense to visit him first.

  
“Thank you, Mr Johns. I look forward to resolving this issue.”  
With that Delilah hurried from the building before he could say another word. She felt that another second in the man’s company could be detrimental to ‘not causing trouble’ in Blackwater.

*****

In less than five minutes, she was standing outside Worthington’s house. Delilah knocked on the door and a servant came running. He managed to refrain any shock at her appearance.

  
“What can I do for you, Miss?”

  
She followed much the same procedure as before: give him the letter, explain what her goal was, and ask if she could speak to Mr Worthington and have a look around the house. The servant nodded several times and showed her into a living room downstairs, in which she was to wait for Mr Worthington to join her. Delilah took this opportunity to contemplate events so far.

  
It was really very confusing. She knew Josiah was innocent, and yet why would any of the other guests put the money in his case? It couldn’t have been an accident as all his belongings were in there, so they couldn’t have mistaken it for their own suitcase, and all Josiah’s things had been removed and put who knows where, so as to ensure the case would weigh the same as it had previously and that he would take it back to the hotel with him, innocent of its true contents.

Maybe one of them had a grudge against him? It wouldn’t be that surprising if he’d run into one of them before and robbed them, thinking he had been discreet when the person in question was secretly plotting their vengeance. And yet it all seemed a little too convenient. Whoever had sneaked off to the safe room, headed inside, cracked the safe (which probably took them a lot longer than it did her) then walked back down the corridor with their arms full of bank notes and the documents, without being spotted by the other guests should any of the doors leading to the antique rooms have been open, headed down the stairs and to the storage room, dumped Josiah’s personal effects somewhere they still hadn’t been found and loaded his briefcase full of the stolen goods before heading back upstairs without anyone noticing they’d even gone had some serious nerve. It didn’t make much sense. It could have been a vendetta against Mr Johns, hence the stealing of the documents to derail his plans, or a grudge against Josiah, for some unknown reason, but if he’d recognised any of the men, he would have been sure to mention it to her to assist her investigation.

  
The inevitable conclusion was that Delilah wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to catch the real culprit, mainly because they were probably very dangerous, but also because Mr Johns was a man who definitely seemed to deserve being robbed. But she had to get Josiah out, no matter what. Ideally she wouldn’t even have to be on this wild goose chase, but she had to do her part for the gang, and that meant making sure the entire town of Blackwater was wary of outsiders as a result of a jail break.

  
Mr Worthington headed downstairs and Delilah stood up to shake hands with him.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m sure your servant explained why I’m here.”

  
“Yes. Do sit down, Miss Anderson.”

  
This Delilah did. “Mr Worthington, before you give an account of what you did on the day Mr Johns invited you to his house, I was wondering if I might ask some questions about what you know of Mr Johns’ dealings?”

  
“Anything you want. Mr Johns is a fickle, cowardly man.”

  
“Ah, I see we’ve formed the same opinion. I take it that we have a mutual interest in proving his accusation of my friend Mr Henderson to be completely unfounded in fact?”

  
“Undoubtedly. Mr Henderson seemed nothing short of a pleasant man who happened to be invited to the wrong social gathering. He probably stepped on Mr Johns’ foot once and now the tyrant wants him punished for it.”

  
“I can certainly picture it. These documents that were stolen, do you know what they were? In detail, that is.”

  
“Mr Johns and other powerful officials across the neighbouring states had all agreed to invest significant sums of money in law enforcement. Now that the documents, which had been given to Mr Johns for him to sign, have been stolen, a new copy will have to be drawn up and resigned by each governor, or in his case, governor in all but name, delaying the proceedings for a lengthy time period. This was highly embarrassing for our esteemed Mr Johns as it clearly showed he doesn’t have control over this region.”

  
“How much money was Mr Johns putting into this deal?”

  
“I’d say at least a hundred thousand dollars.”

  
“Wow. Does he really have that much money?”

  
“One would think not. However-“ he leaned closer and lowered his voice in a conspiratorial manner, “I’ve heard things about him running a profitable side business that is funding his current position.”

  
“What is this business?”

  
“I don’t know for certain if it really exists, but I have my spies on the lookout for evidence of it. The rumours are that Mr Johns has his subordinates dealing drugs and running some illegal fight club. The club’s either outside town or very well hidden, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he rigs matches to win money from bets.”

  
Delilah sighed. “I was hoping for something a little more interesting than that. Anyway, thank you. Do tell me your experience of yesterday’s gathering.”

  
Mr Worthington gave his experience: nothing of interest. His account of the dinner conversation was the same as Josiah’s, and he had headed upstairs with the others. After Josiah had finished talking with Mr Johns, the two of them had shared some brief discussion about the antiques before returning downstairs.

  
“I did also exchange some pleasantries with Mr Atkinson, but I gave Mr Philmore a wide berth. Every time I see him he seems to fall more and more under Johns’ influence. Such a shame.”

He shook his head, then stood to shake Delilah’s hand once more as she prepared to leave. “It was lovely talking with you, Miss Anderson. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be more helpful. Do come back and ask me should you have any more questions.”

  
“I’ll make sure to do that. Have a nice day.”

  
Delilah headed back outside and checked her watch. Half past three. She needed to speak to the other two quickly if she intended to get back to camp in time for dinner.

  
She followed the streets to the apartment block both Philmore and Atkinson resided in. Philmore was on the ground floor and Atkinson was higher up, so she would approach them in that order. As Delilah knocked on the door of Philmore’s apartment, someone wearing grey trousers and a cap hurried past her and up the stairs.

According to Worthington, Philmore was good friends with Johns. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be helpful.

  
A few minutes later Delilah was rethinking that. Philmore couldn’t stop singing Johns’ praises, in subtext of course. She asked him to recount the events from his perspective; he went into great detail about the delicious food and gorgeous antiques he had seen during his visit. He was convinced that Mr Johns’ was a great man of culture that would be able to revolutionise the town (whether for better or worse was a matter of personal opinion) and that any measure must be taken to ensure that the criminal was caught.

However, he failed to see how anyone other than Henderson could be guilty of the crime, given that he had been found with the stolen money, but she should by no means let his humble opinion dissuade her from her investigation, given that she had Mr Johns’ blessing in her mission.

After a quick look around his apartment, Delilah decided he was harmless. There was a chance his admiration of Johns was merely a pretence to get close to the man and remain in a position of safety, but she doubted that - Philmore seemed somewhat scared of him.

She thanked him for his time and headed to Atkinson’s apartment. Barely two seconds after Delilah had knocked, the door was opened very slightly and she could see a man looking at her skeptically. “What it is?”

  
Delilah held up the letter so he could see the sheriff’s signature through the gap. “I’m Miss Anderson and I’m here investigating the recent robbery of Mr Nate Johns, I was wondering if I could ask-“

  
The door slammed in her face. She stood in shock for a few seconds before knocking again, more ferociously. “I have the sheriff’s permission, Mr Atkinson. If you refuse to answer my questions and let me have a look around, it will look highly suspicious.”

  
“I don’t care. I can’t answer your questions. Go away.”

  
Delilah heard his footsteps retreat on the other side of the door and decided it would be useless to keep pressuring him when her time was so limited. She decided to find somewhere to sit down and think about the whole puzzle.

  
Upon exiting the building, Delilah had only walked a few feet down the road before she heard a voice shout, “Miss, you got a light?”

  
She looked to the right, into a small space created by the gap between buildings on both sides of the street. A boy wearing a pale yellow shirt and grey trousers was waving her over with his cap in hand - the one who had passed her on the stairs. Delilah left the street and headed into towards him.

  
“What makes you think I smoke?”

  
“Dunno. You just look like the type.”

  
“You’re not wrong.” She took her lighter out her pocket. “You just came out of that building, didn’t you? Who were you visiting?”

  
“What makes you think I was visiting?”

  
“Because you don’t look nearly rich enough to live there.”

  
“You’re right Miss. I was visiting a friend of mine. Could you hand me that light?”

  
The boy held out his hand expecting her to give it to him and was surprised when she threw it instead - a rather effortless throw that resulted in him failing to catch it. When he bent down to pick it up, there was a flash of light from something inside the cap.

  
“Thank you kindly Miss. Are you new to these parts?”

  
“Somewhat.”

  
“Do you plan on staying long?”

  
“Depends if some friends of mine want to.”

  
“And who are your friends?”

  
“None of your business. And you still haven’t used the lighter.”

  
“Oh.” He looked at it with an expression of annoyance. “I’ll be honest, I don’t really know how to work this. Could you come over here and show me?”

  
“Sure.” She reached out to take the lighter in her left hand, and when he made a swing for her chest with the knife hidden under his cap, her right arm grabbed his wrist and twisted it.

Delilah punched him with her left arm, increasing her grip on his right until he dropped the knife. Smashing his head against the wall behind him, she used the short period of dizziness to drag him out of view of the street and hold him on the ground.

  
“Who told you to do that?” She punched him again, making sure her knuckles went right into his nose, drawing blood of a gorgeous red. The boy merely stuttered and shook his head. Delilah removed a knife from her belt and held it close to his throat.

  
“This blade is poisoned. The slightest cut and you’ll die in a matter of minutes. So I ask again, who was stupid enough to hire you?”

  
“It was Mr Atkinson!” He managed these words through the blood now seeping down his face and in between his yellowed teeth. “He paid me to attack you, that’s why I went to see him.”

  
“So much for you visiting a friend, not that I expect you have many.”

As she spoke Delilah went through his pockets. “But I’m not sure I believe you about Atkinson.”

  
“I’m telling the truth, honest!”

  
“And what a comfort that is.”

Along with some coins, Delilah pulled something that was obviously a pack of heroin from his pocket. “Is this yours or are you selling it?”

  
“It’s...it’s mine.”

  
“Oh, why do I bother?” Delilah pocketed the packet, stood up and brought her boot down on his face. “You can tell whoever sent you to send someone more effective next time. Not that there will be one, because I’ll have caught them before they even start thinking of refunding what money they wasted on you.”

  
She released him and left him to cough up the blood he had been choking on. Retrieving her lighter from where it had fallen, she flicked it on. “I suspect you already knew how a lighter worked and it was merely a ploy to make me step closer, but there you go, incase you had forgotten. I assure you that should you or any of your associates make another attempt on my life, you will certainly need one of these handy. To cauterise your wounds.”

At as fast a pace as she could risk without drawing attention, Delilah made her way back onto the road and hurried to the lake’s edge, where she would see anyone approaching. She then opened the packet and let the heroin fall out, searching for any distinctive marking on the thin paper.

After doing so, she started piecing together the events of the day, all of which had occurred in fewer than three hours. When she felt confident in her decision, Delilah stood up and headed back to Mr Johns’ house. This time, the guards stepped aside with polite nods and let her make her way straight in. Delilah headed up several flights of stairs to the top floor and knocked on the door of Mr Johns’ study.

  
“Come in.”

  
This she did, closing the door behind her, ignoring the look of shock on his face. “Hello, Mr Johns. You may be interested to know that I have found out who the real culprit is.”

  
“Really? Do you have proof?”

  
“Oh, I hardly need proof. Once you’ve listened to what I have to say, you can write out and sign a letter which pardons Mr Henderson. The sheriff said that’s all that I need to get him out, and we needn’t make things too public.”

  
“Assuming I’m convinced that you’re right.”

  
“I hardly need to convince you, given that you’re the one responsible.”

  
He stood up. “How dare you make sure an outrageous accusation!”

  
Delilah stepped forward. “Please don’t try to call your guards, I’ll have a knife in your heart before you can even beg for mercy. It’s mutually beneficial if you just sign the letter and be done with it. That way I won’t have to tell your rivals about what you’re up to.”

  
“One word from me and you’ll never leave this building alive!”

  
“It’ll be the last word you ever say. Besides, you should have learned your lesson the last time you tried to have me killed.”

  
“I never-“

  
“Don’t try to deny it. You want to know how much I know? I know that you only had the money stolen to cover up the fact that it was the documents you wanted to get rid of. My guess is that your side-businesses, meaning dealing drugs like this heroin-“ she held up the empty packaging, “which, for the record, is rather poor quality, probably due to a limited budget - hasn’t been doing well. Maybe you lost a lot of money betting on this fight club I’ve heard about. Anyway, you couldn’t pay the money needed to improve the law around here, and since you didn’t have any lawful reason for backing out, you had the documents ‘stolen’ to delay the proceedings. You met Mr Henderson, who was new to town and unknown to everyone, and decided he would make a good scapegoat as no one would take his side. If you didn’t have a culprit at the ready, the other who signed the documents would’ve suspected you of getting rid of them for your own purposes. So you invited him to a party along with a few of your rivals and kept him talking upstairs while one of your employees put the money - which had undoubtedly been removed from the safe before the guests arrived - in his case, making sure it weighed the same as before, ensured the documents were destroyed, and you had him arrested before he got back to the hotel. My guess is that Mr Atkinson saw something that would incriminate you, and you sent that boy to give him reason to keep quiet and not speak to me. As if that wasn’t enough, you had him try to kill me, or at least injure me, so my investigation would be postponed long enough for Henderson to be taken off to prison and this whole thing be put to bed. My guess is that boy is one of your drug dealers, which I can’t prove since I sort of threw away the heroin.”

A look of pain crossed Mr Johns’ face. “Oh sorry, did I just throw away more of your precious money? Hope the client won’t be missing that.”

  
He took a threatening step forward. Delilah held up a hand innocently. “I don’t want any trouble. All you have to do is write the letter and this will all be over. I have no intention of making things more public than they already are, and you’ll be free to continue your more questionable methods of making money.”

  
Grudgingly, Johns produced paper and ink and sat down to write.

“Don’t think you fool me. You don’t work for Mr Henderson’s lawyer, if he even has one. You two are just as criminal as I am. I saw the way he was eyeing my antiques, trying to work out how much he could make for them on the black market.”

  
“You were the one who paraded them in front of the guests. But I suppose it’s fine as Henderson wasn’t exactly going to be in a position to steal them for much longer.”

  
Johns signed his letter and handed it to her. “I think you would be wise to visit me should you ever return to this town, ‘Miss Anderson’.”

  
“Are you suggesting I work for you? I suppose from your perspective it’s better than having me work against you, but I’m not that keen. Even when I threatened that boy of yours with a poisoned blade he lied and said Atkinson ordered him to attack me. I wouldn’t like to find out how you control these poor slaves of yours.”

  
She waved the letter around to let the ink dry. “Adieu, Mr Johns. I’m sure we both hope never to set eyes on the other again.”

*****

Delilah open the door of the sheriff’s office, waving the pardon letter like a flag of victory. “Look what I’ve got.”

  
“Well I never.” The sheriff picked up the letter and read it in awe. From the way he treated it, you would think it was one of Johns’ prized antiques. “You actually convinced him! So who did steal the cash?”

  
“Mr Johns wants that information to remain private. If you’re intent on knowing, I’m sure you can ask him in person, but I’m not in a position to reveal anything.”

  
“Shame. I was really looking forward to taunting the criminal with the fact that he was bested by a woman.”

  
“Oh trust me, I did the taunting for you.”

  
“You spoke to them in person?”  
“Of course I did! How else would I decide their guilt?”

  
“I wonder why Mr Johns doesn’t want their guilt made public.” All this time the sheriff was fumbling in a drawer for the cell keys. “Especially since he was ready to ship poor Henderson here off to Sisika.”

“Sisika!” Josiah hurried to the cell door, eager for his release. “Thank goodness Anderson here got me out when she did! I’d have withered in that hellhole. Oh, the stories I’ve heard about that place.”

  
“Stories? You have _friends_ who’ve been to Sisika?”

“Oh no, just heard rumours.” 

  
The sheriff unlocked the jail cell and Josiah practically fell out. “I’m free,” he murmured, as if unsure whether to believe it. His vision moved towards Delilah, standing at the door and looking pleased with herself.

  
“Come on, Henderson. My horse could do with some grooming.”

  
He hurried out after her, giving the sheriff a quick wave of thanks, and as Delilah untethered Lorelei, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug.

  
“I’ll never be able to repay you for this. I am forever in your debt, dear Delilah.”

  
“You’re not wrong. Get off, you’re all dusty.” He did so, and followed her as she lead Lorelei off towards the stables. “It’s not like you were going to hang. Only go to prison, and probably not for too long either.”

  
“I had no idea you were such an optimist. Mr Johns is a-“

  
“Very powerful man, so I’ve heard. So powerful that he had you framed for theft.”

  
She promptly recounted how her investigation had gone. Josiah was completely disorientated at the end.

  
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be better off working with the law than against them? You’re quite the detective.”

  
“With people like you out there? Not a chance.”

  
“I didn’t think about that. And I suppose there would be all the other gangs to worry about, not just ours.”

  
“We have to worry about them as well, you know.”

  
“Yes, yes, I know.”

  
“Did you manage to get anything out of this trip at all? Other than attracting the attention of a man who will make life for the entire gang - not that he’ll know that’s what we are - utter and complete misery when we arrive as a result of your incompetence, that is.”

  
“Delilah, I never know if you’re being sarcastic or being serious.”

  
“Can’t I be both?”

  
“Preferably not at once. And to answer your question, I did manage to locate a lot of valuable antiques.”

  
“Which are surely being locked in an underground bunker right now.”

  
“Too true. If the owner of the establishment hadn’t framed me for theft, things would have gone off perfectly.”

  
“If he hadn’t framed you for a crime you were planning to commit?”

  
“Must you put it that way? It sounds like you’re taking his side.”

  
“I wouldn’t dare. Why don’t you head to the saloon and see if your horse is still there while I get Lorelei some much deserved luxury?”

  
“Sounds like a plan.”

  
“And I’ll have a quick bath at the hotel before we head back.”

  
“Take all the time you need. You’ve earned some luxury. Here-“ he pulled out some cash and handed it to her, “I think you are more than deserving of this.”

  
“I don’t have the energy to argue. Thank you. For having some common sense for once.”

  
“You’re very welcome. Enjoy it. I’m going to have a long drink at the hotel bar and toast you for saving me from ending up in Sisika for the next few months.” He sighed. “The rest of the gang will be having a field day with this.”

  
“I’m perfectly happy to keep your misfortunes a secret if that’s what you want.” 

  
“Not at all. They deserve something to laugh about. And you deserve a break.”

  
“Cheers to that. I’ll join you for a drink once I’ve finished my self-appointed chores. We can drown our sorrows together.”

  
“What sorrows do you have?”

  
“Dead ones, assuming I drown them successfully.” 


	6. Primadonna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delilah and Josiah head to Saint Denis for the Mayor’s party.

The cigarette smoke glided across the air in front of her, comforting her as it melted away with its invisible presence. Delilah was thinking, although it was hard to say what about. Should she have found some sense of purpose here, with the Van der Linde gang? The only purpose she could truthfully say she had was staying alive, same as ever, and that meant staying on people’s good sides to ensure their protection and trust. 

Picking up her journal and quill from where it lay in the grass beside her, Delilah tapped the next page absentmindedly, unsure what to write. The difficulty was not deciding what to say, but how to say it.

  
A thunderstorm the past night, lightning sharp as crystals  
Fallen trees hither and thither, another splintering at the seams   
Inescapable. Unbearable. The animals fled.  
Nature has broken down and lashed out  
In fury, pity, exhaustion  
She has indeed altered her world, and for what  
To remind the creatures they are not the only beasts  
And the flowers that she has her own roots

Centuries of breathless anticipation,  
A landscape begging to be soothed in its own shroud  
The artist that painted this picture had a dreary palette  
Moulded by nature’s saltless tears.  
Hibernation is over and the swans have returned  
They are pale and thin and crave nourishment.

Would it not have been better to have it end painlessly?

  
Delilah never knew how to feel about her poetry habits. Overall, she considered it a pointless waste of time. She very rarely reread her poems, having already come to the inevitable conclusion that this journal would not stay with her forever. It was destined to be snatched away when her bag was stolen by some thief, or lost forever should she and Lorelei be separated.

Delilah knew that was almost equally as inevitable, given that a horse and owner were even less likely to stay together than money and a bank safe. But Lorelei had been with her for many years. She’d always been Delilah’s favourite out of the horses her parents had owned, and claiming her as her own had been a surprisingly nice moment, despite the overhanging sense of guilt.

  
But the poetry. What was the point, what was she even trying to achieve? The few poems she had gone back over were ugly and rushed. That shouldn’t matter though, given that no one else was really going to read them. When she attempted to get them published - not all of them of course, a select few only, chosen meticulously for the intended audience - it was out of boredom more than anything else.

Despite their close friendship, she was too stubborn to resort to the life Roger had planned for her automatically. She had tried to be better. By joining a ‘nice’ gang of criminals. How valiant. Who was she trying to impress? Herself? God? Roger? He had turned his back on her after she took one step away from him.

And now all Delilah was left with were people so ready to believe the best in her that she was starting to worry that they were talking to someone completely different. Her lies couldn’t be that perfect.

  
In the end, her poems were a reflection of herself more than anything. Pathetic attempts to impress with layers of words all to embed hardly any meaning, destined to be lost. Should her end come, someone would be sure to read it. They’d hope, for her sake, that it had been quick and painless. That she’d felt as little in death as she had in life.

  
Did Roger feel this way sometimes? Oh, who cared how he felt. He was no longer Delilah’s concern, especially since he had probably enjoyed the company of more than a few prostitutes since his most recent letter. He might have helped her when she most needed it - initially unintentionally - but that didn’t mean he was her only source of stability. It might not be home, but Delilah could see that the Van der Linde gang were allies worth having, and she planned to make sure that they saw her as part of their family, even if she had a contrasting view.

It was today that she and Josiah would head to Saint Denis. Delilah could only hope that robbing the rich citizens unfortunate enough to attend the Mayor’s party, which was tomorrow, would bring her the satisfaction she had been devoid of lately. If nothing else, the exquisite town should be more than enough to take her mind off other things. Whether or not the rumours about its magnificence were true remained to be seen.

  
“Delilah!” Josiah hurried over with a frantic wave. “Are you ready to leave?”

  
Delilah drew herself up to full height with a slight frown. “I’m ready whenever you are, but what’s the rush?”

  
“We have a lot to do before we check into the hotel, such as making sure we look presentable.”

  
“I think you look fine.”

  
“I’m well aware of that. It’s you I’m referring to.”

  
“How dare you. Don’t you recognise a latest fashion pistol holster when you see one?”

  
“I can guarantee the townsfolk of Saint Denis will recognise it, and they’ll see it as something far from a fashion statement, especially on a woman.”

  
“I know, I’m messing around. As usual.” Delilah reached up a hand and let him pull her to her feet.

“So,” she scooped the journal, quill and ink into her arms, “what’s the plan?”

  
“Put those in your bag. You can keep your weapons with you until we’re on the outskirts of Saint Denis, but then put them away. Our first stop is the tailor’s. I shall find you a party gown fit for a queen.”

  
“That sounds ominous. I hope I won’t have to wear it all the time we’re there.”

  
“Don’t worry, I’ll find something nice for you to wear during the day.”

  
“Oh no.”

  
“Something wrong?”

  
“I’m not sure I trust you to make sensible fashion choices.”

  
“Fear not, you shall be able to approve my every decision. Meet me by the horses, dear Delilah.”

  
Delilah headed over to where she and the other girls slept to collect her bag, making sure it would have enough space for all her guns. Tilly and Jenny were seated nearby.

  
“Have a nice time!” Tilly called.

  
“Bring us back something valuable!” added Jenny, to which Delilah gave her a withering look and mouthed “obviously,” before giving them both a quick wave and hurrying off to where Josiah was waiting for her.

  
She ensured her bag was properly tied onto Lorelei and then climbed on.

  
Josiah made sure his top hat was firmly on his head as he guided his horse out of the camp. “Follow me.”

  
“That would be logical, given that you’re the only one of us who knows the way.”

  
“You don’t have a map?”

  
“Of course I have, but I haven’t actually been to Saint Denis before, have I?”

  
“I suppose not. Nothing to fear, you’ll be thrilled.”

  
“Will I now?”

  
“Yes. We have all the time in the world to enjoy everything it has to offer, and I intend to give you a unique, Josiah Trelawny-approved tour.”

  
“I look forward to it.”

  
“As well you should. I’ll be spending a lot of money on you.”

  
“Now that’s hardly fair. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be free to spend any money at all. Or have you already forgotten that I got you out of jail all by myself?”

  
“Not in the slightest. That was a remarkable feat, one for which I congratulate you yet again. I still struggle to believe that Mr Johns, who talked to me cheerfully and spelled out the history of his each and every antique, is as much a crook as, well-“

  
“As you are?”

  
“Precisely.”

  
“Anyway, I suppose having you in debt to me even more than you already were was worth running around Blackwater for hours and nearly getting killed rather than touring the city with Lorelei as I originally planned.”

  
“Indeed it is, and if having me buy you all the expensive delights that Saint Denis has to offer won’t pay off that debt, I don’t know what will.”

  
“I reckon that should cover it, although I dread learning what these ‘delights’ of Saint Denis consist of.”

  
“Nothing to fear. Clothes, food and entertainment of a quality you could never even imagine.”

  
“So I can look forward to sinking to your level?”

  
“If you must put it like that. Jokes and insults aside, I think you’ll like Saint Denis. Plenty of rich people to rob, and I can assure you that the hotel is very comfortable.”

  
“Now that I can be grateful for.”

  
They took a short break from their repartée to take in the thriving environment around them. A flock of birds that seemed to be little more than blotches on the blue sky flew west and the once muddy trail they were riding looked so dry it could just as easily be wood. Around them the hills were alive with motion and a harmony of bird song, horse hooves and leaves riding on the wind.

  
Josiah cleared his throat. “By the way, thank you for listening to me blabber on yesterday. It was a miracle you didn’t decide to get drunk just to end the pain.”

  
“I don’t get drunk. Besides, it was fascinating to hear all your stories about the gang. I had no idea some people had been members for so many years.”

  
“Completely unpredictable, isn’t it? That a gang of outlaws could have stayed together for long, united by their strength and love for one another.”

  
“Are you being sarcastic?”

  
“I’m sorry?”

  
“That sounded like something that would be said sarcastically, but I know you have a tendency to say idiotic things with complete sincerity.”

  
“I’m wounded. What was idiotic about it?”

  
“‘Strength and love’? Those are hardly the only things holding this gang together. I’d say the need to stay alive, greed, poor choices and bad luck all played a far larger part.”

  
“Alright, I see your point. I disagree about greed, however. If it were money people wanted, they’d be far better off with the O’Driscolls.”

“Not necessarily. The O’Driscolls are more than happy to backstab and leave their own for dead, not to mention the majority of them fear Colm more than the law. Any one wanting to make some cash safely would pick a gang that valued the lives of all its members.”

  
“Wouldn’t they just take off after they’d got the money they needed?”

  
“With the planned bank robbery and then the trip to Blackwater on the horizon? I think not. They could make considerably more very quickly if those plans turn out well.”

  
Josiah frowned. “We aren’t talking about anyone in particular, are we?”

  
“No one of importance. Who did you think I was referring to?”

  
He looked very relieved. “I thought you were talking about me, actually.”

  
“Oh. Well, I wasn’t.”

  
“You know. How I only show up at certain times and have - unintentionally, I emphasise - ended up leaving you to do a lot of the work on the jobs we’ve done. That combined with your naturally suspicious attitude adds up to a highly negative-“

  
“Josiah, you do realise I understood what you meant from the moment you told me you thought I was talking about you?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“And that everything you said after that was completely pointless?”

  
“I was trying to explain myself. To make sure you saw it wasn’t wholly because of your views, and that my actions could also have been a factor.”

  
“It still doesn’t matter as I wasn’t talking about you.”

  
“It matters what you think of me.”

  
Delilah didn’t reply to that, just nodded as if she had lost interest and focused her attention on the passing trees, for the main reason that she wasn’t sure what she thought of him. She had only ever seen a compassionate side to him, and that was what occasionally made her skeptical.

Delilah didn’t doubt that if she were to see Josiah at work on a job he might still be able to act in a way that any observer would classify as nothing more than standard behaviour. It didn’t bother her that he might be able to manipulate others - it was, after all, a necessary skill in his line of criminal work.

Why was he so insistent on being nice to her, of all people? It often felt like a mockery. Time and time again she would warn him what she was like, and every time he argued back, invested in the futile fantasy that she could change to become who he was convinced she should be. More than anything, it was boring and predictable, and it made her long for that more appealing source of entertainment she had resisted for so long. Yet she was the one who ‘decided’ she had joined the gang to change her ways.

  
She would let Josiah see what he wanted to, and indulge the illusion that there was another option for her, for both their sakes. Despite the fact that Delilah already had her end in sight, and couldn’t see it changing.

They continued in silence until the swamps near Saint Denis came into view. Delilah guided Lorelei onto the tunnel-like wooden bridge, following Josiah’s lead.

  
“Lovely scenery.”

  
“Was that ironic?”

  
“Not entirely. Must you insist on asking that every time I say something?”

  
He gave an innocent shrug. “Maybe you should just say what you mean instead of being sarcastic? And you asked me the same question not long ago.”

  
“With you it’s hard to tell the difference between sarcastic and stupid. My apologies that you aren’t perceptive enough to recognise when a person is being sarcastic, despite the fact that you often do so yourself.”

  
“Again, really?”

  
“Oh, so that time you could tell I was being ironic.”

  
Josiah sighed resignedly, but a smile played at the corners of his lips. “I’m starting to think you weren’t the right choice for an evening at the Mayor’s house.”

  
Delilah grinned. “Only now you’re coming to this realisation?”

  
“I’ve been working on it. As a result of my designated stupidity, the conclusion took longer than it would for others.”

  
She rode up alongside him and gave his arm a comforting pat. “You have my non-sarcastic apology. There is a possibility that this concept of stupidity may have been a delusion forced onto you by a negative influence in your life, naming no names.”

  
“No, I don’t believe it. I am no greater than a gutter rat, reduced to begging for mere crumbs of sympathy-“

  
Delilah gave him a light slap on the wrist as she smiled. “Shut up. Change of topic - how’s this bank robbery thing planned for Valentine going?”

  
“Right now it’s not ‘going’ anywhere. We need to get people down there to observe what sort of security they have, not to mention that right now there won’t be much cash there. It’d be a much better take once people start selling off those lovely animals in the auction yard out front of the town and all that extra cash goes into the bank.”

  
“Any chance that might result in extra security too?”

  
“I doubt it. That bank doesn’t look like it’s seen any decent action in years.”

  
“How would we go about it?”

  
“Firstly, I doubt there’ll be a ‘we’. Guaranteed, you’ve greatly impressed Dutch with all the money you’ve brought in lately, but this is a job where directness isn’t the most necessary approach. They’ll want a team that can be quick, quiet and efficient.”

  
“I am absolutely all of those things!”

  
“As I do not doubt. But you still haven’t been here long and Dutch’ll want a team that trusts each other.”

  
“And no one really trusts me. I can’t blame them. I’ve definitely been showing off a bit.”

  
“And that was because you wanted to show how useful you are. I know that, and you’ll get your chance at a big job, I know that too. Until then, you’re stuck here with me.”

  
“Which is perfectly fine. Everyone at camp is nice, but-“

  
“You like having time away from it all.”

  
“Yeah. And I can’t deny, my interest in Saint Denis has been building considerably during this journey.”

  
“And it will only increase once we arrive. It might be filled to the brink with criminals, but it’s easy on the eye and a gorgeous place to take a short holiday.”

  
“A holiday that comes with the bonus of robbing people.”

  
“Fantastic, I know. I’m sure you’ll love it. By the way, don’t go into any of the alleyways. There’s a gang of street urchins that will rob anyone in sight.”

  
“Got it. Although I doubt they’d succeed where I’m concerned.”

  
“You never know. Either way, the risk isn’t worth taking.”

  
An increasing number of light shafts were piercing the canopy of intertwined branches clothed in a deep green linen, and a matter of seconds later the trees melted away and they could see the writhing smoke of Saint Denis, a shaded silhouette at the current distance, leaving dark blotches on the blue sky above. Crude wooden bridges held the hooves of their horses above an alligator infested marshland as they neared their destination. Delilah felt her eyes being drawn towards the massive body of water beside them.

  
“It’s strangely beautiful.” The stillness of the water was somewhat unnerving, as was the knowledge that hundreds of alligators were probably gliding through it unseen, masking themselves from the watchful eyes of the outside world. But it also gave the odd appearance of being at peace, like the smog and noise of the city was none of its concern. It reflected the tainted blue solution that made up the sky, but that was not its true colour. It absorbed, but refused to digest.

  
“I suppose it is, unless you know what’s in the middle of it. Somewhere over there,” he pointed out across the waters, “is Sisika Penitentiary. Where that lunatic Mr Johns would have had me sent under a false charge of robbery. Absolutely outrageous. Once again, I offer you my thanks for getting me out of that.”

  
“It was nothing. Barely took more than a few hours, and I know you’d have done the same for me. Plus I hated seeing you locked away like that. You would have withered in prison.”

  
“In body maybe, but not in spirit. The moment I got out I would have come running back to kiss your hand and apologise for having caused you so much worry.”

  
“Funny. There’s no use pretending, the first thing you’d do is rob the richest person you can find, buy some decent clothes, find a hotel and have a bath.”

  
“You know me so well.”

  
“It’s fairly obvious. Presumptuous of you to assume I would worry about you.”

  
“Are you saying you wouldn’t? All sorts of things could happen to me in there: beaten up by a rival gang, murdered in a squabble over who has the better moustache, killed trying to flee-“

  
Amid her laughter, Delilah managed to hold out an arm to stop him. “Enough of that. I wouldn’t be worrying about you because I’d rescue you while you were being transported to the prison.”

  
Josiah took hold of her outstretched hand and gave it a light kiss. “You truly are amazing, Delilah Lopez.”

  
She frowned. “Seriously? Maybe-“ she imitated his voice, “it was irony.”

  
“I know it wasn’t. You might not have any qualms about killing, but I can tell you’re loyal to your friends. That’s not something you can say about everyone.”

  
“You can say it about everyone in the gang.”

  
“Well, I guess you’d never know until it’s too late.”

  
“Indeed.” She narrowed her eyes in faux suspicion. “How do I know you wouldn’t betray me?”

  
“Because I’m not smart enough to realise I’d be better off without you.” Seeing what he thought was hurt on her face, Josiah quickly apologised. “I didn’t mean that seriously at all, you needn’t fear. But at least it shows that you can’t always pick up on irony either.”

  
Delilah smiled. “True. It must be circumstantial.”

  
They both gave a knowing smile at what had just been established as an inside joke. All the while Saint Denis crept closer and closer, ready to swallow them. As the smoke of the buildings thrashed against the wind, one could almost see faces in there, here one moment, gone the next. The outskirts of the city were clustered with such buildings - ugly and foreign to the surrounding land.

  
Delilah shot Josiah a disbelieving look. “You want to live here? It’s practically Blackwater on stilts.”

  
“What does that mean?”

  
“It’s worse than Blackwater. In appearance at least.”

  
“We aren’t even inside yet. And Blackwater is still developing. There’s plenty of time for it to become just as bad, if not worse.”

  
“Right. Anyone on Mr Johns’ level here I should know about?”

  
“The Mayor’s pretty harmless. Rumour is that he’s completely under the thumb of some Italians led by a man called Bronté. I doubt we’ll run into them though, apparently they never actually attend these sorts of parties. I assume they consider themselves too important for such insignificant events.”

  
“They’ll be considering themselves lucky by the time people start reporting they were robbed.”

  
“Indeed they will. You should probably put those guns somewhere they can’t be seen.”

  
Delilah removed the straps keeping her rifles on her back and stuffed the guns into the blankets tied onto Lorelei’s back. Reluctantly, she removed the belt keeping her pistol holstered to her waist.

  
“Must I?”

  
“Yes, unless you want to risk someone remembering you should you even come back here.”

  
“They are likely to remember me based on the clothes I’m wearing right now.”

  
“Which is why we’re heading to the tailor’s before we do anything else. Besides, there isn’t that much they can do given that we’ll be using fake names.”

  
“They can get a description. Draw a picture for a wanted poster.”

  
“They won’t have proof, and by this point I’ve completely forgotten what you were arguing in the first place.”

  
“Wonderful. Makes me wonder if you’ll be able to remember these ‘fake names’ we’re relying on.”

  
“Of course I will. I’ll be-“

  
“George.”

  
“Why George?”

  
“Why not George?”

  
“I’ve nothing against the name George, I was merely wondering why you chose it.”

  
“What, did you think it was the name of my pet rock or something?”

  
“You have a pet rock?”

  
“Of course not. Right now the only use I have for a rock would be throwing it at your head.”

  
“Alright, alright, I was kidding. George it is. I think Francesca would be good for you.”

  
“What makes you think that?”

  
“I don’t know. You just seem like a Francesca.”

  
“Have you ever met anyone called Francesca?”

  
“No, Francesca, I haven’t.”

  
“Then what makes you think I’d be a-“

  
She trailed off as they rounded a corner, having been riding down a road formed by the wooden walls enclosing two nearby factories, only to find themselves at the end of a street that seemed to go on well past the horizon line. The ground was made of stone cobbles, something that had probably been going on for a while, but Delilah hadn’t noticed, not even with the telltale echo of hooves against them.

Ahead were two parallel lines of trees, their gorgeously luscious leaves dancing over the passers-by below, and hugging two metal tracks between them. She was about to make some comment about trains running through the city when she heard a bell clanging and saw a tram creep out of the sun’s distant glare like some heavenly carriage. It glided along the tracks as if it were a thing on its own, devoid of the people inside it, like a snake in water.

The buildings stretched upwards like sentries on guard, protecting their places of honour in this city of the future. Two policemen in bright blue uniforms were riding horses past the tram, and the streets were dotted with passersby - each of their outlines pulling a piece of sunlight out from the picture before them. It was easy to see that no matter how much Blackwater grew and expanded, it would never have the same feeling of mystery, thrill and underlying enticement she found in the air that combined smog, sweat and superiority.

  
She didn’t have to look at him to know Josiah was grinning. “Now do you see what I mean?”

  
“I guess. Glad to see your dream home looks more appealing when you’re actually in it. But I guess you still have house prices to consider and all that.”

  
“Indeed I do. Follow me, we can get a room at the hotel and drop off our stuff before we do anything else. Hopefully they’ll still be some good ones, what with everyone flocking here for the party.”

  
Delilah guided Lorelei through the streets behind Josiah and his horse, heading off the glorious main path. If one were claustrophobic, the narrowness of the streets and the panic that would settle in at having to avoid every pedestrian could be a problem, but having the patience to keep your horse at a slow pace avoided this difficulty, and patience was something Delilah had always been good at.

When they neared the hotel, Josiah signalled that she should wait outside while he made their arrangements. She ran a hand through Lorelei’s dark mane - silky ever since the Blackwater trip - as she gazed upward, almost relishing the way the impressive blue sheet above stung her eyes and pressed an afterimage onto her vision. The fact that even a city as outwardly flawless as this disguised it’s fair share of crime and mishaps made it even better.

Delilah couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her lips at the thought that she too would soon be adding to the corrupted underbelly of Saint Denis, like leaving her own claim on it.

  
She was freed from her chain of thought from the sound of an all too familiar voice calling out “Francesca!”.

Rolling her eyes, she looked down and blinked several times to see Josiah climbing back onto his horse. Riding alongside him as they headed towards the tailor’s, she asked “so did you succeed?”

  
“Indeed I did. We now have a room.”

  
Delilah raised her eyebrows. “A room?”

  
“Why, would you have preferred an outhouse?”

  
“No, it’s just, a room, singular?”

  
“Well, we’re supposed to be husband and wife, how strange would it have looked if we took separate rooms? Besides, we could hardly deprive the other guests of their chance at a place to stay. Sorry, I didn’t know it bothered you.”

  
“Not really. You’ll just have a lot of trouble falling asleep with me rolling from side to side every two seconds.”

  
“That won’t be a problem. If there’s a chair in the room I’ll sleep on that, if not I’ll take some pillows and sleep on the floor.”

  
“I know you’re trying to be a gentleman, but your discomfort is completely unnecessary. There’ll be more than enough room for both of us.”

  
“Fear not, dear Delilah. I shall embrace my suffering with as much enthusiasm as I embrace my duties for our gang.”

  
“Oh, the duties which landed you in Blackwater jail?” Josiah opened his mouth to respond, but Delilah got there first. “Yes, I can see why you’d embrace that wholeheartedly.”

  
“You more than anyone should.”

  
She placed a hand on her hip. “Really, why’s that?”

  
“Why, the money, of course.”

Josiah’s eyes were trained on her face, trying to gauge her reaction. Delilah could see he was disappointed in the blank expression she projected. “For a second there I thought Delilah Lopez might have more on her mind than her own financial gain.”

  
“Our collective financial gain. I’m not as selfish as you like to tease me about.”

  
He did look surprised at that, taking his eyes from the street ahead momentarily as they arrived outside the tailor’s.

“Really? Well, I look forward to the moment that-“

  
“I’m not as selfish,” Delilah climbed off her horse and slipped the reins over an iron rung of the metal fence surrounding a square of benches and greenery, “I’m even more selfish.” She watched with restrained glee as his face drooped like a dog’s. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  
Josiah wasn’t to be deterred. “Well, a matter of hours enjoying the beauty of murder-free relaxation in Saint Denis, wearing the clothes I will help you choose, and you’ll be claiming that attitude is merely ‘circumstantial’”.

  
“Is that so?” Delilah allowed him to link arms with her as they headed towards the door. The tailor’s was on the corner of the square and stood at the far end of a long line of shops, most of which were restaurants. When they entered, the shop owner was assisting another couple to try on what could only be party outfits, leaving Josiah and Delilah free to examine the clothes on display. Standing in the windows were several mannequins wearing dramatically extravagant evening gowns. She looked at Josiah uncertainly.

  
“Which do you think I should wear?”

  
“Well, which ones do you like?”

  
Without hesitation, Delilah replied, “the dark blue one. Not sure if the hat would work for me though.” The hat in question had a very broad brim and was decorated with faux white flowers clinging to the part that would cup her head and a single blue feather emerging from between them to stick out to the side.

  
“There’s only one way to find out.” Seeing that the other couple were in the process of leaving, he beckoned the owner over. “Sir, my wife would like to try on this dress for tomorrow’s party. Is that possible?”

  
“Of course, just give me some time to get it down.” He stepped up onto the display bench and pulled the mannequin back down to the floor with him, then took about two minutes getting the dress off.

Handing it to Delilah, he pointed to a door at the back of the shop. “You can try it on in there. And don’t forget the hat.” It was pressed into her arms rather aggressively and Delilah gave a forced smile as she grasped it with one of her few spare fingers and carried the bundle of blue through the indicated door.

As soon as she was inside, she dropped the burden onto the floor and looked at her reflection in the mirror directly opposite. She removed her hat, and in what could either be interpreted as a self mockery or a mockery of the outfit she was about to try, flicked it absentmindedly at the top of the mirror, hoping it would hook onto the corner. It did no such thing; the hat spiralled to the carpeted floor and remained there - motionless.

It was hard not to acknowledge the discomfort she felt as she took off first her thick jacket and then unbuttoned her pale shirt. It may not have been shedding armour but she no longer had the demeanour of someone to be feared, which was only further confirmed as she pulled the dress on over her trousers and freed her hair from its constraint at the back. There was no denying that the colour suited her - then again, most colours did. But she could never blend into this type of society. Not in appearance, voice or mannerism.

  
At least, not until she put on the hat.

  
The shadow it cast over her gleaming eyes immediately quenched the predatory glare it had seemed she would never be rid of. The white flowers speckled over the hat shone out like a halo around her mane of dark hair. She almost liked it, though she’d never be used to it. Her only major complaint would be the way the bodice part of the dress squeezed her chest with the same force and unrepentant decision that she possessed when she pulled a trigger.

And the feather. She almost wanted to yank it off when she realised it was the same type of feather that Roger had on his arrows. Archery: the one method of killing that hadn’t really interested her.

*****

“The risks and time wasted outweigh the benefits,” she had told him.

  
“What risks are there?”

  
“Do I really need to explain? The bow will come apart in my hands and I’ll get a splinter. I accidentally trip over and shoot myself in the foot.”

  
“Perfectly plausible fears to have when wielding any gun, and you don’t have a problem with that.”

  
“Well, I think a gun would be more practical. You use them for duals, robberies, hunting - at a much larger range than a bow will ever give you.”

  
“Using a gun to hunt scares off nearby wildlife.”

  
“Hardly my concern. One shot is all I’ll need to get enough to eat for a day.”

  
“What if you’re providing for more than one person?”

  
“I won’t be. Not know that you’ve decided you need to leave soon.”

  
“You’re more than capable of perfecting your marksman skills alone. I have taught you all I can, you need to learn to fend for yourself.”

  
“Are you sure that’s the only reason you’re leaving?”

  
“Why else would I do so? Since I’ve been spending so much time training you I haven’t been making any decent money. This is what’s best for both of us.”

*****

Delilah remembered the thoughts that had gone through her head at that moment.

Because you want to torment me.

Because you want revenge on me for using you.

Because that’s what I’d do.

  
But saying any of that would have made her seem weak and needy. It would have been admitting that his departure did irritate her.

*****

“Of course. You’re right. To deny you of your income would be stupid, given that I am quite capable of making my own.”

  
“Good to hear. This is your last chance to learn what I have to teach about archery.”

  
“Still not interested.”

  
“Feigning disinterest purely to get under my skin doesn’t make you look clever, Delilah. It makes you look lazy.”

*****

All this time the fingers of her right hand were outstretched to allow the feather to sneak in between them and tickle her into a state of nearly hypnotic nostalgia. Their soft caress soothed her heightening emotions and eventually summoned her back to reality. Jamming the hat further onto her head, she turned and left the room.

Josiah, who had been sitting on the window seat formerly owned by the gown in question, instantly looked up. The owner was busy making notes next to the catalogue.

  
“Alright, give me the cold hard truth. On a scale of one to ten, how dreadful-“

  
“It’s perfect.” He beamed at her as he walked over and tilted the hat further back on her head, bringing her face into the light. “I wonder how much it’ll be.”

  
“A fair bit, is a safe guess. Doesn’t matter as we’ll be returning it.”

  
“We will? Why on Earth, when it suits you so well?”

  
Delilah sighed. “When will I ever want something like this again? It just takes up space that I don’t have.”

  
“Maybe you’ll need a dress for the next party we attend.”

  
She raised an eyebrow. “So you think us attending parties will be a regular occurrence?”

  
“I don’t see why not. We work quite well together, don’t you agree?” Before she could reply, he added, “it doesn’t matter anyway, the owner doesn’t do returns.”

  
“There has to be a fence in a city this big.”

Josiah sighed as he realised she had a point. “Fine, we can take it to the fence the day after the party. It won’t be open that late in the evening. I also thought these would work for everyday clothes.”

He held up a buttonless white shirt and lengthy grey skirt. “The owner says you can change into these, then we’ll pay and leave.”

  
“Understood.” Delilah took them back into the changing room and once again found herself stepping into a completely different person’s shoes (not literally, she would be keeping her boots). The skirt was acceptable although not ideal, and the shirt, with its tight collars that clenched around her wrists like chains, flattered her form if nothing else.

She eventually emerged to find Josiah handing over a large sum of money and getting ready to leave.

  
“Isn’t my wife a picture of perfection, Mr owner?”

  
“Indeed she is, sir. I hope you two enjoy the party.”

  
“We plan on it.” He offered Delilah his arm, which she took, and together they emerged from the shop back into the city that seemed to grow ever larger.

  
“It’s time for your tour of the city. There’s an elegant pond near the city outskirts that may not exactly rival your elegance, but it’s a promising contender. No alligators thankfully, but the abundance of men ready to kill and skin them probably persuaded the beasts not to take a tour. I’ve heard one man even killed one with an arrow through the eye. Can you imagine that? Anyway, the thrills of Saint Denis await.”

  
Delilah merely smiled and replied, “Roger that.”

*****  
  
Their tour of the city lasted until around seven that evening. There were a surprisingly large number of interesting things to see, starting with the aforementioned pond, progressing through the market place, from where they purchased a purse to go with Delilah’s dress, and roundabout that was accompanied by a trumpet player, and ending at an incredibly fancy restaurant where Josiah declared they would be having dinner.

Every table was draped in a spotless white cloth, on top of which lay shiny silver cutlery and a transparent glass containing a single flower, the colour of which was a violent purple. A guard stood by the door, forcing armed customers to hand over their weapons. Delilah and Josiah seated themselves at a table for two by the window.

  
“Is the cutlery really so valuable that it would be worth stealing?” mused Josiah as he picked up the menu.

  
“And the flower.” Delilah tapped a finger on the rim of the vase. “It’s a Lady Slipper Orchid, incredibly valuable to collectors. Makes me wonder how this shop got their hands on so many.”

  
He looked surprised. “I never took you for a botanist. And there’s a rich collector of rare flowers on the outskirts of this town, towards the North side. They probably bought from him.”

  
“I don’t do anything without good reason. It was important for me to learn about different types of plants when I realised gunslinging was an appealing career. There’s a lot of life in the wilderness involved, and that means you have to know what plants are useful and which to avoid. Then again, even the poisonous ones can be useful. I used oleander to make a liquid poison for the blades of my throwing knives. This, however-“ she indicated the vibrant flower in its new habitat, “is only useful for the money.”

  
“And for decoration.”

  
“Still, you have to pay to acquire it. Unless you feel like scavenging for ages.”

  
“I suppose you have a point. As impressive as it is that you can put deadly plants to good use, was it necessary to make your knives even more threatening than they already were? What if you accidentally cut yourself on one?”

  
“I have an antidote.”

  
“You do? Where is it?”

  
“In my satchel.”

  
“What if you get scratched and you’re nowhere near your satchel? Why not just carry it on your person?”

  
“The reason it is currently in my satchel is because I do not have my knives with me right now, so there’s no reason to risk carrying an incredibly rare antidote when it might get damaged and I don’t even need it.”

  
“Oh. But you normally carry it on your person?”

  
“Yes. It’s tied to my pistol belt.”

  
“That is a great relief.” Josiah returned his attention to the menu. “I think I’ll have the largemouth bass.”

  
Delilah resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. “What is it with you and fish?”

  
“That was a joke, I knew you wouldn’t take well to mention of your most disliked animal species.”

  
“Fish aren’t my most disliked animal species.”

  
“Oh? Then what is?”

  
“I don’t know what is, but I sincerely hope never to meet it.”

  
That wasn’t entirely true. Her least favourite animal had always been a cougar. Why she hadn’t said so Delilah didn’t really know, there were more than a few logical reasons to dislike the creature, but her reasons were more in depth than that.

  
“I second that. Anyway, it’ll be the sausages and potatoes for me.”

He handed the menu over and Delilah gave it a quick scan. Josiah’s choice was one of the least expensive things on the menu.

  
She looked up at him. “Are you running low on cash? That dress must have been more expensive than I thought.”

  
“No. Why would I be?”

  
“Deny it all you like, but I’ll refund you for the cost of my meal when we get back to the hotel.”

  
“And you are ordering..?”

  
“The rump steak.” She set down the menu and added, “and I’ll have a glass of beer, please.”

  
“They’ll ask how you want your steak done: rare, medium rare or well done.”

  
“The difference?”

  
“Rare is the least cooked and is oozing with blood, well done is the opposite.”

  
“I’ll take medium rare then. What are you drinking?”

  
“Red wine.”

  
Delilah smiled a little, seeing that her declaration that she would pay for her own food had resulted in him going for a more expensive drink choice. “Glad to hear it. Shall we order?”

  
Josiah called over a waiter, placed their orders and couldn’t resist describing their seating arrangement as “Mr and Mrs Henderson, seated by the window.” This prompted a skeptical eyebrow raise from Delilah.

  
“If you keep introducing us like that, someone will get suspicious about why we aren’t wearing rings.”

  
“I’ll say we are incredibly paranoid about the activities of thieves in this city. And our paranoia will prove very much founded in fact when a great many guests at tomorrow’s party find themselves devoid of their valuables.”

  
“Alright, fair enough, ‘Henderson’. I hope that name choice doesn’t mean you still consider yourself my slave for preventing you from living out the next few months in Sisika.”

“I guess I’ll have to accept it sooner or later. More than anything, I’m annoyed that I fell into Johns’ trap so easily.”

  
“If you consider scouting out an opportunity for robbery to help a gang of criminals you see as family altruistic, you really have nothing to feel guilty for. Johns only went for you because he thought you could easily be perceived as having criminal intentions, and it takes one to know one.”

  
“So you’re saying I should feel better about it because Mr Johns and I are cut from the same cloth?”

  
“Twist my words all you like, it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t make a mistake when you went to that party. Get over it, there are far worse things to feel guilty for. All you did was end up in jail for a little less than a day.”

  
Not long after this remark was made, a waiter came over with their drinks on a tray. Removing both glasses, Josiah placed Delilah’s drink in front of her, then raised his, prompting her to join him for a toast.

  
In a hushed voice he said, “to living out our days prosperously, having had plenty of reason to be satisfied with what we achieved in our criminal days.”

  
“‘What we achieved’ being complete chaos.” Josiah looked like he was about to amend his initial statement, but before he could, Delilah finished, “oh, I’m not complaining. Cheers.”

  
They touched glasses and each took a long drink of their alcoholic beverages, savouring the fulfilling taste. They then made idle conversation about Saint Denis, the types of people in it and the structure of the city, until they were greeted by an overpowering smell that could only mean their food had arrived. Josiah thanked the waiter and they began eating.  
Amid a mouthful of sausage, he managed, “how’s yours?”

  
“Delicious. I confess I usually have my meat rare - I’ve never had the patience to leave it cooking for longer than necessary. But this is far nicer.”

  
“Glad to hear it. I almost thought you’d be sick of meat after you’d been eating it so often.”

  
“That was before I had a bowl of Pearson’s stew every day.”

Delilah cut herself another slice of steak and, impaling it on her fork, placed it in her mouth and sank her teeth onto it, relishing the way the meat bent to her will and the blood trickled down her throat. “With the exception of camp meals, this must be the first meal in years that I didn’t prepare myself.”

  
“Did your parents cook for you?”

  
“I guess you could say that.”

  
Assuming she didn’t want to talk about this further, Josiah changed the subject, looking around to check that no one else in the restaurant could overhear.

“Right, here’s the deal for tomorrow. We want to take objects that won’t be missed for the duration of the party. I’m thinking wallets in back pockets - all the food will be free - and jewels from outfits if you see anything particularly valuable. I’ll have my pockets for the stolen items, you’ll have your purse. The aim is to make at least a thousand dollars, hopefully nearer two thousand.”

  
Delilah sipped her beer. “Got it. And what if something goes wrong?”

  
“Something like what?”

  
“Someone sees us stealing.”

  
“They won’t see us stealing, we won’t be doing it together. Maybe one of us distracts someone while the other steals, but we won’t be seen robbing the same person at once. That way the one not seen can provide a distraction while the other escapes.”

  
She shrugged. “Could work. Hopefully will work. Seems like you’re very confident.”

  
“I have good reason to be. You’re on my side.”

  
“That doesn’t guarantee success.”

  
“It’s far better than having you work against me.”

  
Delilah felt the edges of her mouth creep into a smile as she raised her glass. “That is undoubtably true.”

  
They touched glasses and drank once more. As the last dregs of her beer disappeared from sight, Delilah couldn’t help feeling confident that the night would pay off, quite literally.

*****

After they had finished their dinner, the two of them made their way back to the hotel, getting the key to their room from the man at the desk. Unlocking the door, Josiah’s eyes flitted between the wooden chair in the corner and the thick carpet on the floor.

  
“Hard to say which would be more comfortable.”

  
Delilah sighed. “For the last time, you are more than welcome to one side of the bed.”

  
“As a gentleman, I must decline your generous offer. I think I’ll take the floor, it’ll do far less damage to my back.”

  
The only response he got to this remark was a pillow thrown at his chest. “That’s all you’ll get. Be grateful.”

  
“I guess your generous streak ran out.”

Dumping the pillow at one end of the carpet, he slumped down unceremoniously and began fiddling with his expensive shoes, while Delilah seated herself on the edge of the bed and began undoing the straps on her boots. Once them and her socks were off her feet, she pulled back the covers and let herself collapse under them, dragging the warm duvet back over her body as she let the pale pillow engulf her head.

  
“An actual bed. I forgot how good this feels.”

  
“Tell me about it. Not all of us are so lucky.”

  
“Are you going to keep complaining about a situation you are only in because of your own stubbornness or are you going to let me sleep?”

  
“Alright, fine. We’ll need to be awake for all the fun of tomorrow anyway. Good night, dear Del-I mean Francesca.”

  
“I’ll never get used to that. Sleep well, George.”

*****

When she awoke the following morning, Delilah stretched her arms and sat up only to find herself still in a mostly dark room. The curtains had been pushed open at one side only to allow for a single shaft of light to fall on Josiah, who was sitting on the wooden chair with a pillow behind him and a book in his hands.

Sensing motion, he looked up to see her awake.

  
“Why hello.”

  
“Did I miss the part where you are a vampire? No wonder you ordered red wine.”

  
That made him laugh. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  
She automatically sat up straighter. “What time is it?”

  
He checked his watch. “Around eleven thirty. Don’t worry, it’s not like we have anywhere to be. I went out and bought us some things for breakfast.” He then pointed at several cans of fruit and a tin of biscuits sitting on the wooden table by the window.

  
“Thanks.” Delilah forced herself to her feet and walked over as Josiah opened the curtains fully. “What can I say, the outlaw life can be exhausting. Besides, it took me a while to get to sleep. It’s been a while since I slept in such a spacious bed. When you’re lying on a blanket with the hard earth beneath you, it forces you to stay still. With a bed like this, I find it hard to stop moving.”

  
“Thank you for that in depth explanation. Care for some food? I didn’t want to start eating until you woke up, it wouldn’t have been polite.”

  
“Your politeness will be the death of you.” Delilah picked up a can of peaches and then realised the metal seal was a slight problem. She considered biting into it with her teeth, but she wasn’t starving enough to be stupid. “I’d better get a knife.”

  
“No need.” Josiah produced a can opener from his pocket. “You think I’d go anywhere near one of your knives after what you told me yesterday about the poison?”

  
“You never know. Desperation can make people do terrible things.”

Taking the device from him, she pried the can open and offered it to him before letting several slices fall into her own mouth. “So what time will we be heading down to this party.”  
“I’d say about six. It starts at five, but if we’re too early we’ll stick out too much. If we stay until nine at the latest, we’ll have plenty of time for carefully planned pickpocketing while also getting to enjoy the fireworks.”

  
“Fireworks?”

  
“Sorry, did I not mention them? Every one of these parties is accompanied by some of the most glorious fireworks known to mankind. Or this region, at least.”

  
“I’ve never seen fireworks.” The peach juices hydrated her and brought much needed moisture back into her throat and voice. “It will be...interesting.”

  
“You’ll probably want to rethink that when you actually see them. Trust me, they’ll be far more than interesting.”

  
“Good to know. Want some biscuits to go with that slice?”

  
Josiah nodded his agreement and they enjoyed the rest of their impromptu breakfast in silence, before venturing out to spend their remaining time exploring the city - specifically locating the fence to which they would sell Delilah’s party dress, which was in one of the buildings around which the market place had been built and was run by an incredibly suspicious Frenchman.

*****

  
When the party loomed nearer, they returned to the hotel to make some changes to their attire. Josiah equipped his jacket, bow tie and top hat, whereas Delilah swapped her skirt and shirt for the far more complex and somewhat overwhelming blue dress, with its wide sleeves and long skirt, which was convenient as it hid her practical boots from sight. Picking up the matching bag and swinging it over her shoulder, Delilah took Josiah’s arm and let him lead her out of the hotel and into the busy streets of Saint Denis, crowded with wealthy and well dressed folk heading in the same direction as they were.

As they passed an alleyway, Delilah saw what were unmistakably two boys scrambling into the shadows.

  
“Looks like you were right about the operations of our less sophisticated fellow criminals in these parts.”

  
“I usually am, although you don’t give me nearly enough credit for it.”

  
“In that case I congratulate you for being right about this one thing. I wouldn’t get too excited though, this was probably the exception that proves the rule.”

  
“You aren’t doing the best job of getting into the part of a clueless society lady.”

  
“Would you rather I insult you or risk alerting the other guests when I feel an urge to punch you in the face?”

  
“Well, when you put it that way-“

  
“Thought so. Are we almost there?”

  
“Indeed we are.”

They rounded a corner and followed the train of Saint Denis’ rich towards two large iron gates, which stood open accompanied by two guards. Several people in suits were waiting to escort the guests through the massive house to the garden beyond, provided they handed any weapons over to the guards.

When Delilah and Josiah - or the Hendersons as they introduced themselves to the guards when they handed over their invitations - arrived they were given a few quick glances and allowed straight in. It seemed their appearances were sufficiently deceptive.

  
As soon as they were led into the house, it was instantly apparent that the Mayor could rival Nate Johns for the number of valuable antiques left standing around, but given that (as far as they knew) the Mayor wasn’t looking for an excuse to frame someone for theft, he didn’t really have an excuse for this stupidity. They walked through the open glass doors and found themselves at the top of two sets of stairs that were mirror images of each other, both leading down to the busy garden below. The servant left them, and the two prepared to get to work.

It was embarrassingly easy to relieve the other people attending of their valuables. While Delilah engaged a man dressed in a similar way to Josiah in extremely dull conversation, he took the man’s wallet from his back pocket. They repeated this charade several times with other unsuspecting victims before they swapped roles and Josiah did the talking while Delilah picked pockets.

Eventually she got bored of that and started trying things that were more daring. She pulled several jewels off the back of a woman’s fancy belt, and even unclasped a golden bracelet from another woman’s wrist and placed it in her bag. The woman was so deep in conversation she didn’t notice.

After they had moved to a safe distance, Josiah whispered, “was that really a good idea? How long before she notices it’s missing?”

  
Delilah shrugged innocently. “It’s an entertaining party! She won’t notice it’s gone for ages, and when she does, she’ll probably assume it was dropped and not stolen. Besides, there’s nothing to link us to the theft.”

  
“Other than the fact that your bag and my pockets contain a curiously large number of valuables! What if the party is locked down and we’re all searched?”

  
“I highly doubt that. They’ll want to keep the thefts quiet, don’t want bad publicity.”

  
“I’ll have to take your word for it. Let’s split up for a while, try some new tactics.”

  
“Good idea. We don’t want to look too attached.”

  
Josiah headed off towards the garden’s back entrance, which opened onto the street, and Delilah moved back towards the house. She made her way over to one of the long rectangular tables, which was covered with a white cloth similar to the ones from the restaurant and had many light, easily consumed foods just waiting to be eaten. She picked up one of the elegant champagne glasses and consumed all the alcohol in it at once. Knowing when it was wise to stop, Delilah set down the glass and didn’t pick up another. Instead she picked up one of the cocktail sticks, on which were impaled multiple pieces of fruit, instantly reminding her of the breakfast they’d had that morning.

Having eaten the fruit quickly, she moved down the table and picked up a wooden stick with several small sausages, which were disposed of just as quickly. She leaned back against the table as she searched for potential robbery targets in the sea of people surrounding her.

One particularly distinct one was a drunk woman sitting on the garden wall, whom everyone nearby was giving a wide berth. She had several champagne glasses balanced on the wall besides her and was drinking through them one by one.

  
And that, thought Delilah, is why you don’t get drunk, especially not in public. I’d be doing her a kindness by helping her to learn that lesson.

  
Making her way over there, Delilah sat down besides her. “Hello. I’m Mrs Henderson. Who are you?”

  
“Does it matter?” The woman threw her arms about wildly as she downed another glass.

  
“I suppose not. Why are you drinking so much?” The woman had a purse not unlike Delilah’s which had its strap across her shoulder and was lying beside the champagne glasses. All the time she talked, Delilah gradually reached an arm behind the woman’s back, tugged the purse out of the crowd’s sight and began fumbling inside it, trying to find something that felt valuable.

  
“Because-“ she took another drink and choked on it, spraying the drink all over her dress. Delilah only flinched a little at the sudden noise of it, being more focused on collecting as many bank notes into her fist as possible. “The man I love, idiot though he may be - loves someone else.”

  
“What makes you think that?”

  
“I saw him kissing her.” She was staring ahead at nothing in particular, rage in her eyes and venom in her voice.

  
“Doesn’t mean he loves her.”

  
“Why would he kiss her if he didn’t love her?”

  
“Does he know you?”

  
“I guess.”

  
“Maybe he’s doing it to get to you.”

  
She reached for the next glass and accidentally knocked it off the wall. It didn’t fall far, and landed with a subdued chink rather than shattering. A puddle of spilt liquid formed around the discarded glass. “Well that would be rude.”

  
Slipping the money into her own bag unnoticed, Delilah decided her job was done. “Some people would consider getting drunk at an incredibly expensive party and drinking the majority of the equally expensive champagne rude.”

  
The woman shrugged and started waving her arms as if batting away a fly. “The champagne’s free. It’s not my fault I can take it without paying.”

  
Now that was funny, thought Delilah as she glanced down at her incredibly full purse while she headed back towards the crowd. Josiah was deep in conversation, so she was trying to spot someone they hadn’t yet robbed when she sensed someone’s gaze.

Slowly, she turned around, searching every face in crowd, but not one pair of eyes was on her. Then Delilah looked up. The balcony above the stairs. She hadn’t even noticed it, it blended into the house so perfectly, as did the very ominous collection of men in fancy dark suits seated there. They looked far more threatening than the Mayor’s staff - but then they weren’t. These must be the Italians Josiah told her about. And the one smiling straight into her eyes like a shark could only be Bronté.

At that moment a man who could only be a thug for hire tapped her on the shoulder, drawing her eyes from the balcony. He didn’t say anything, merely beckoned to her and walked towards the house. She followed. The message was pretty clear: come with me or you’re arrested for theft. And the last thing she needed was to give Josiah the chance to get even with her on the ‘get me out of jail’ front.

  
Delilah was escorted up a narrow set of stairs branching off from one of the house’s main rooms. This lead to the upper floor, from which they made their way onto the balcony. Bronté made some gesture with the cigar he was smoking to indicate that they should be given privacy.

  
“Do sit down, Miss..?”

  
“Mrs Henderson.” She sat down in the chair opposite him. Only two guards remained and they were both busy watching the party scene below, or so they appeared.

  
“Ah. That is clearly an alias, but for the sake of communication it will have to do.” He spoke with a strong accent, but to say his English was impressive would have been an understatement.

  
Delilah leant back and folded her arms. “The party not interesting you enough? I should probably been honoured you’ve ‘requested’ my company.”

  
“Yes, you should be. It’s not every day I sit to talk with common thieves.”

  
She was about to state that she was far more sophisticated than a common thief, but that would just give him even more leverage. Granted, Bronté would only be able to prove the theft, but she had a funny feeling that evidence of her other crimes would conveniently appear.

“I may be that Mr Bronté, but I still have taste. This party of yours is most impressive. Because it is your party, isn’t it? The Mayor stands down there, lowering himself to the level of the less intimidating, while you sit up here, watching over your flock.”

  
“Yes, it is a lovely view. I got to watch you rid that poor drunken wretch of her so-called valuables. Not that they would have remained in her possession much longer with or without your help. That and all the other items you’ve stolen today will make an impressive sum indeed.”

  
“And what must I do to ensure I leave unhindered with this sum?”

  
“It’s quite simple, Mrs Henderson. The success of your thefts are actually quite convenient for me and my friends. The Mayor hasn’t been as obedient as we’d like him to lately, and we think it’s only fair that he be humiliated as a result. Your pickpocketing will do a more than decent job at exposing his incompetence, after which he’ll have to come to me should he want the city to turn back to him. However, I’d like something a little more embarrassing for our good friend. If you make a public fool of him right now, during his own party, you’ll keep your money. I may even consider the prospect of us working together in the future.”

  
“I thought you didn’t associate with common thieves.”

  
“I think you’re a little more than that, Henderson. You don’t slouch like the majority of those gutter rats do. And now that you’re sitting down those boots of yours are clear as day.” She had completely forgotten about the boots, and being seated had raised the skirts of her dress just enough to make them visible.

  
“Seems I’m not quite up to date with today’s fashion.”

  
“Indeed you aren’t. Now go down there and prove that my assumptions about you are correct.”

  
Delilah tipped her hat - which wasn’t as satisfying when the hat in question was as fancy as this one - and made her way out of the building and back into the crowds. She didn’t want to risk drawing attention to herself by causing trouble personally. Luckily, there was someone else more than willing to do it for her.

She sat down next to the drunk woman, who was trying to stand up to get more drinks and kept falling back down. Delilah helped her up and supported her as the two of them made their way into the crowd. The Mayor was talking to some business associates near the fountain.

  
“Hey.” Delilah gave the woman a light slap and turned her face in the direction of the Mayor. “What would you do if I told you that were the man who had been so cruel to you? The one who you saw kissing-“ Before she could finish, the woman snatched up yet another champagne glass and drank half at once.

  
“Out of my way.” She thrust the glass into Delilah’s hand and pushed her out of the way, staggering forward with determination. “This won’t be pretty.”

  
Delilah sipped the remaining contents of the glass as she watched the woman stride forward, pausing every now and then to right her footing. Why are these people so easy to manipulate, she thought. If someone told me that was the man I loved I’d either kill him or myself, look at the guy. Now all that’s left is to see whether she’ll kiss him or punch him. Either would work well.

  
As it turned out, the woman attempted to kiss the Mayor, and when he shook her off, face turning red at the outraged comments from those around, she slapped him and pushed him into the fountain for good measure.

Glancing around, Delilah saw the crowd trying to withhold their laughter in an effort to uphold the name of politeness, only for them to be given permission by the cackles coming from the balcony. Bronté was finding it so amusing he began to clap. The Mayor was left to hurry back into the house as fast as possible, leaving a trail of water along the ground. When the noise had finally died down, Delilah glanced up at Bronté to see him giving her a look which was best described as respect. The way he raised his glass ever so slightly suggested some level of acknowledgement of the talent for engineering chaos they both shared.

  
The clearing of a throat prompted her to turn around to see Josiah standing opposite. “What exactly was that? I saw you talking to that woman, why would-“

  
“Bronté.” She jerked her head ever so slightly in the direction of the balcony. “He picked up on my pickpocketing, I didn’t even notice them sitting up there. Decided it was worth playing along with his little plan to embarrass the Mayor. You can’t deny, it was very entertaining, and although Bronté may not entirely trust me, he knows I’m someone he can do business with. Who knows when that might come in handy.”

  
“Never, I hope. If there comes a day when you have to ask Bronté for a favour, you will be in a terrible situation indeed.”

  
“Calm down. I’m not usually the one who does the asking in these situations.” She set down her empty glass and looked up to see everyone around them crowding to the front of the garden.

“What’s going on?”

  
“They must be starting the fireworks now. I thought they’d wait for the Mayor but he must have been so embarrassed that he told them to go ahead without him.” He placed a gentle hand on Delilah’s back and ushered her forwards with the others. “Not that it’s any great loss. I’d say our work for today is done. We deserve to enjoy this.”

  
Hardly had the words escaped his lips, a massive boom echoed out as a rocket shot into the sky and a few seconds later erupted into showers of gold, red, blue and green. The previously monochrome sky was suddenly ablaze with dashes of colour that fell and twinkled like confetti. The applause of the crowd could never justify just how mesmerising these dancing raindrops were.

  
Delilah found them hard to describe, and she felt ‘beautiful’ wouldn’t quite cut it. The way they seemed to crackle and fizz reminded her of a lit fuse.

“They’re like...shooting stars.”

  
She could see him smiling in her peripheral vision. A hand reached out to pluck her hat from her head. “There. Now you can see them better.”

  
Delilah didn’t react to this gesture, merely watched, contemplating the sublime display before her. The fireworks seemed to fade far too quickly - just like that, it was like they never existed. There was a poignant moral to it. Wherever there was beauty, there would always also be loss.

  
“Delilah?” This time she turned to him and let her eyes stare into his, admiring the way the colours reflected in his dark eyes made them look like marbles.

  
“Yes? Is there something you wanted to say?”

  
All of a sudden Josiah seemed lost for words. The way he held her gaze made her wonder if he too were lost in the way the colours thrashed in the spherical prison of her pupils. “Nothing much. I was wondering...if you’d like to dance?”

  
“Like now?”

  
“Why not?”

  
“No one else is. This isn’t really a dancing party.”

  
He gave a soft smile as his eyes bounced around her face, as if trying to commit every detail to memory. “Maybe if we will, they will too.”

  
Delilah was silent for a while before saying, “I’m not in the mood and I don’t know how to anyway.”

  
“I could t-“

  
“I’m tired. Shall we go back to the hotel?”

  
“I suppose.” He set her hat back on her head, linked arms with her, and the two left much as they had arrived.

*****

From the hotel they could still hear the loud popping of the fireworks. Josiah removed his top hat, jacket and bow tie while Delilah set about undoing all the straps on her boots. This took so long that Josiah also got his shoes and socks off by the time she’d finished. He was about to collapse onto the carpet when Delilah held out an arm to stop him.

  
“You really don’t need to sleep there. There’s more than enough room for both of us to be comfortable on the bed.”

  
This time he didn’t argue. Maybe he was too tired, or too bored of attempting to impress her. He picked up the pillow and set it on the bed besides hers. Lying back, he waited for Delilah to finish taking her socks off before she sank down beside him, still wearing the long blue dress.

  
“You know, I think we did a great job today.” To prove this point, Delilah reached for her bag on the bedside table closest to her and displayed the contents. “This bracelet alone is probably almost two hundred dollars.”

  
“You performed spectacularly.” He beamed as she replaced the handbag and lay on her side, facing him. “I think the gang should consider themselves lucky to have someone on your side.”

  
“It was the gang who embraced me and gave me a place when I needed it. And you too, Josiah. You’ve been so kind to me, paying for this whole visit, complimenting and appreciating me. I am truly glad to have met you.”

  
“Delilah, that’s...nice of you.”

  
With a subtle smile she ran a hand along the edge of the pillow she was leaning on and leaned forward slightly as she brought her eyes up to meet his. “That surprising?”

  
She was ready for the next part; she had seen it coming from the way his eyes kept flitting to her lips. When he leaned forward, placed a hand on her shoulder and a chaste kiss to her lips, she didn’t move, only to give a slight kiss in return. When he searched her face for a reaction, she gave a reassuring smile.

Before he could kiss her again, she reached an arm behind him and grabbed the book that lay on his bedside table, holding it between them.

  
“Read to me.”

  
Delilah pushed the book into his hand, and when he began reading, still with that giddy smile, she let her head rest on his shoulder. Not long into the passage, she feigned sleep, letting her head loll to the side and her eyes fall shut. She heard the gentle sound of the book being replaced as he shifted her so that she lay on her back with her head on her pillow.

  
And when she heard him turn out the lights and his breathing become rhythmic and regular next to her, she was left to lie awake in the dark and wonder what it all meant.


	7. I’m Like A Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delilah and Josiah return to camp and meet a new gang member.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is further proof that the timeline in this fic doesn’t work with the game, due to the new gang member’s arrival long before he is due to show up.

Delilah awoke to light creeping through the thick velvet curtains. Slowly, she turned to her left and saw Josiah still lying next to her, very much asleep. The way he was on his side with his body turned towards hers made her wonder if he had awoken during the night and watched her sleep for a while - as well as one could with the effective blackout curtains hanging over the windows.

She swung her legs over the side and stood up as quietly as she could. Thankfully the wooden floor didn’t creak. She made her way over to the huge rectangular mirror and used it to undo the buttons at the back of her dress, which she’d had slept in all night. Stepping out of the silky material, she let it fall to the floor, untied the bodice and took great pleasure in replacing it with her far more comfortable shirt, which had enough common sense to place the buttons at the front where one could actually see them.

Pulling on her trousers, socks and boots, Delilah watched her reflection as she let her own hat, with its wide practical brim and flat top, sink back on top of her dark hair. Now she felt a lot more like herself, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

She turned around to make sure Josiah was still asleep. As much as she wanted to open the curtains and flood the room with light, he deserved some time to rest. That was one favour he had done her she could at least repay.

  
Instead Delilah moved to the door, opened it and made her way outside the hotel to where she was relieved to see their horses still tethered. She retrieved her journal, quill and ink and headed back inside. The light sneaking around the edges of the curtains would be enough to write by. She sat down on one of the plush red armchairs, opened the book to the next blank page and thought about what to write.

  
Delilah didn’t get a lot of time to think because not much later Josiah sat up, yawning. She set down her journal and pushed the curtains against their opposite walls. His hand shot up to protect his eyes from the sudden blindness.

  
“Well that was completely uncalled for.”

  
“But needed nonetheless.”

  
“I suppose I can’t argue with that.” He sat up and noticed her dress discarded on the floor. “You haven’t changed your mind about getting rid of it?”

  
“Not at all. We could use the cash back.”

  
Josiah stood up and picked up his shoes from where they had been set with the backs against the wall, side by side. “Were you doing some writing?”

  
“I was about to.”

  
“What about?

  
“Things.”

  
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “That’s exactly what you said the last time I asked about your poems.”

  
Delilah chuckled and leaned back against the chair. “I didn’t answer you then, what makes you think I will now? And how did you know it’s poems I write?”

  
A sprinkle of confusion flitted over his features. “I guessed I assumed that since we kissed, you had decided to be more open.”

  
“Unfortunately that openness hasn’t extended to my poetry. You didn’t answer the second question.”

  
“It was Jenny. You read one of your poems to her, Mary-Beth and Karen and she came to talk to me and suggested that I should convince you to read me some.”

  
Delilah stood up, closing her journal as she did so. “Did she give any indication of why she would do such a thing?”

  
“No, but I assume she hoped it’d bring us closer. She probably thought we’d be good together and that’d make you happy.” He walked over to her and took her hands in his. “Does it?”

  
Delilah let a smile form on her lips. “Of course it does,” she said, running the back of her hand along his cheek. “You’re so kind to me, dear Josiah. You helped me see the good in myself when even I couldn’t.”

Something like both pride and gratitude could be seen in his eyes and she took that as her sign to lean forward and place a gentle kiss on the same cheek which her hand had just graced. His eyes never once strayed from her face, as if mesmerised by its uncanny elegance.

  
She leaned back slightly as she noticed him staring. “What it is?”

  
“Oh, nothing much. Only that I am currently looking at one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.”

  
“How so?”

  
“In the time we’ve known each other - just less than two weeks - you’ve killed a Grizzly, escaped an avalanche, got me out of prison and helped steal an impressive sum of money at a party.”

  
“It must be noted that I didn’t actually get away with the last one unnoticed.”

  
“That’s besides the point. The point is that you did all of that, and you did it better than I could do it, than any gang member could have done it-“

  
“Now you’re taking it too far.”

  
“Am I? If so I don’t care. You’re perfect to me, Delilah Lopez.”

  
“Nobody’s perfect. And if I’m your definition of perfect, you could do with a perspective change.”

  
“I beg to differ. I would more than happily go on for hours about why you should think more of yourself-“ he scooped up both her hands in his and kissed them, “but I wouldn’t want to bore you. So, shall we find that dress a new home?”

  
Delilah untangled her hands from his and headed back over to the table with her book. “If you don’t mind, can you do it? I’d like to do some writing while the ideas are still in my head.”

  
Josiah smiled at her as if she’d just saved his dog from being run over. “Of course, my dear Delilah. With any luck I’ll be back in around fifteen minutes. Enjoy your writing!” He scooped up the dress and bodice and was about to leave when he turned and said, “wait, what about breakfast?”

  
“We can have some food when we get back to camp. I don’t want to stick around here for much longer than necessary, given that we have a great many stolen valuables to dispose of.” As she said this her eyes moved to her purse, still resting on the table and bulging slightly as Josiah had added his stolen goods to it. They would sell everything to a fence on the way back.

  
“Good thinking. Wouldn’t want anyone asking questions about us.” With that he left, closing the door behind him.

  
For around twenty seconds, Delilah strode around the room with no particular sense of direction, merely going over recent events.

She ended up once again gazing at herself in the mirror. Her dark brown jacket, coated with sheep’s wool on the inside. It was more than a slight bother on warm days, but it was practical and that was what mattered. Her shirt, made of thin thread. This time it was a pale grey.

All the shirts Delilah owned were pastel colours - light greens, blues, reds and any hue of white - and they were all shirts designed for a man. She liked them a lot more than the feminine ones, which clung to skin in an attempt to flatter one’s form. These ones left plenty of room for air to get under them and counteract the work done by her jacket. All the colours she wore were carefully selected to compliment her dark hair, and when your eyes were drawn to that, they naturally fell to the orbs of her eyes, black as onyx and sharp as glass.

  
She sighed as she looked at the figure before her. “I guess it’s true. Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.” She sank back into the armchair, flicked back to the previously selected page of her journal, and began to write.

  
Spinning and singing like a siren, they throw  
Me flowers.   
I catch them in   
My mouth.  
White roses dripping with blood  
Bluebells drowning in ink   
Sunflowers dried and wilting.   
The sun is gone and still the lights, they blind  
Me. Yet  
I am flawless. The applause unending  
My followers bowing. They are truly   
Mine.  
I lick the petals and suck the life from them.  
It should be sweet not savoury  
Now who can save   
Me.

  
Leaving the book open on the table so the ink could dry, Delilah rolled over so her arms were on the back of the chair and she was facing the window. The hotel was on the corner of the street and from here she could both see and hear the tram as it slid down the larger of the visible streets. Not far away were a group of policemen in their vivid blue uniforms and bowler hats, two of whom were on horses and all of whom were looking very concerned. On the street directly below the window was the expected crowd of people hurrying by, mostly in the direction of the market. In other words, everything appeared to be normal.

  
A knock at the door pulled Delilah back into the less well lit parts of the room. She opened it and saw a satisfied Josiah pulling a large sum of cash from his pocket. “Just over three quarters of what we paid for the original. I think it’s pretty decent.”

  
“Well, it’s all yours.” She tapped his shoulder in mock seriousness. “You might even have time to spend it if you don’t end up in jail again.”

  
“This time it’s both of us that might end up jail, especially if your new friend Bronté decides you’re less danger to him locked up.”

All the time they talked, Delilah picked up her journal, quill and ink and Josiah replaced the cash in his pocket, using his now free hand to hold the book he had read to her yesterday. The other hand was soon filled when she tossed him the purse containing the items taken during the party.

  
Delilah scooped up the room key and they exited the room, heading down the stairs. “Why would he do that? I could rat him out.”

  
“Or maybe he’d conveniently arrange to break you out of prison so you’d be even more in his debt?”

  
“‘Even more’? We’re currently even, thank you very much.”

  
She slid the key over the desk to the man standing there and pushed open the hotel doors as they exited into the street.

Climbing onto their horses, Josiah deposited the purse and book in his sole saddlebag, and Delilah stuffed all her belongings into one of her many saddlebags. They were quick to make their way back onto the main road and towards the wooden bridge that would carry them over the marsh’s waters and into the swamps, from where they would make their way through the state of Lemoyne to the fence located near Rhodes. The sound of the metal horse hooves colliding with the cobbles beneath them sounded like a declaration of victory.

  
As soon as they were out of the city, Delilah removed her rifles from where they had remained hidden in the blanket tied to Lorelei’s back and swung each strap over her shoulders diagonally. “Feels good to have these back somewhere I can reach them.”

  
“So I guess pickpocketing during parties isn’t your ideal branch of thieving?”

  
“Not even close. If we had been spotted by someone who didn’t happen to be a certain Italian mobster, there was practically nothing we could have done to defend ourselves.”

  
“Did you forget about my distraction plan?”

  
“Of course not, I’m just saying, that isn’t really a risk when you’re armed and have an actual escape plan.”

  
“Indeed it isn’t. Does that mean we won’t be working together for a while now?”

  
“I probably don’t get a say in that. Dutch’ll probably send you off for a lengthy reconnaissance task.”

  
“You’re right. If that does happen, try not to have too much fun without me.”

  
“I doubt I get much of a say in that either.”

  
They soon found themselves riding past the lush green fields that could only mean they were nearing Rhodes. When they started to get close to the town, they turned off onto a side track that lead them to a series of caravans parked on a hill. A few people were gathered around a campfire in the centre, but there wasn’t much conversation going on. They dismounted and tethered their horses to a makeshift fence in front of them.

  
“I must say, this is quite the nice spot they have here,” mused Josiah as he lead her around the outskirts of the camp towards one caravan which had the top half of its back door open, a man standing there whose suspicions expression could only mean this was the fence they had come in search of. “I wouldn’t mind staying here myself, if the circumstances called for it. One day they may well, given that Rhodes doesn’t have a hotel. Outrageous.”

  
Before approaching the fence salesman, they removed all cash from the purse, then tipped its contents onto the counter in front of him.

  
“Are you selling all of this?”

  
“Yes. And the purse.”

  
After about five minutes of debating prices, Delilah and Josiah walked away with pockets full of money that amounted to around two thousand three hundred dollars.

  
“I must say, I had no idea some of that could be worth so much,” said Delilah as they climbed back into their horses, “I mean, it’s only jewellery. But I guess I wouldn’t know much about that.”

  
“I don’t think some of that was worth half as much as what he bought it for. It was probably you bullying the man until he was willing to pay us just to leave.”

  
“That certainly is another way of looking at things. I’ll take it into consideration.”

  
They descended the hill and returned to the familiar green pastures. Several boars scurried into the woods to their left as they neared the unmistakeable vicious red mill, and a wagon rolled past them in the opposite direction. The only thing missing under the excruciatingly sapphire sky was a peaceful stream.

  
“Delilah?”

  
“That’s my name.”

  
“If there’s a moment when we’re both free...would you like to go on a trip with me?”

  
“A trip where?”

  
“I don’t know. Anywhere with lovely scenery. We can just go riding and fishing - do whatever you’d like.”

  
“That’s a nice idea.”

  
“Would you be interested?”

  
“I don’t know, it depends. I wouldn’t want to miss any good job opportunities - after all, aren’t they planning that Valentine bank robbery? I doubt I’ll be doing the robbing but who knows, they may need people for distractions, to guard the camp-“

  
“If you’re so invested in contributing to this robbery I’ll talk to Dutch, see if I can’t get him to find you a part in it.”

  
“Really? You’d do that for me?”

  
“It won’t be much trouble. I haven’t a clue why it matters so much to you, you’ve already more than proven yourself. No one has any doubts about whether or not you belong here.”

  
“You don’t know that for sure. It isn’t just about people’s opinions, although I’m perfectly content with knowing that you’re happy I’m here. I want to give something back to the people who’ve taken me in despite knowing nothing about me.”

  
“I think we know quite a bit. At least I do. You lost your parents at - wait, how old were you? If you don’t mind.”

  
“It was just over two years ago, so I was nineteen.”

  
“Once again, I’m sorry. And you were a pickpocket all that time?”

  
“Yeah. But most of it was spent training myself to shoot.”

  
“That must have been quite dull. Alone, all that time.”

  
“Hence the poetry, and a few other hobbies I tried out. But poetry was the only one that really stuck.”

  
“Over two years of poetry...all in that book of yours?”

  
“Before I decided it would be permanent I just wrote on scraps of paper. Then I thought about publishing some of them and filled a whole book with the ones I thought would be ideal. But as it turned out, they weren’t. And pickpocketing kept looking even more attractive.”

  
“I’m surprised the law didn’t try to help you find work.”

  
“Well, that’s the thing. When I found them dead I buried them, gathered my belongings and fled. I found myself an abandoned house soon after.”

  
“You just ran?”

  
“I didn’t want to end up a suspect.”

  
“What possible motive would you have had? You wouldn’t have been putting yourself in a good position by killing them, girls alone in this world don’t tend to get far.”

  
“It wasn’t a chance I was willing to take. I wanted to decide what to do with my life myself. And here I am now, committing all sorts of crimes for the Van Der Linde gang. And as for motive, like I told you once, they weren’t the nicest parents and people nearby could have guessed it by the fact that I was always the one coming into town to do all the work there.”

  
“I see. Sorry this keeps coming up.”

  
“No bother at all. I went for years without much human interaction, discussion is a refreshing change.”

  
“I’m glad to hear it, just as it saddens me once more to hear what you’ve been through. Not to sound rude, but I’m surprised that all you did was join a gang, and a reasonably nice one at that. People who’ve been through that sort of thing usually turn out a lot worse.”

  
“I guess you found a defective one.”

  
He laughed softly. “And I couldn’t be happier.”

In under five minutes they entered the glade that shaded the camp from sight. This time it was Javier on guard. One hand of his was around a rifle, the other stretched into the air to give them a wave as they neared his position.

They tethered their horses and had barely had a second to think before Dutch came hurrying over to them, closely followed by a very distinctive and yet unfamiliar man. He wore a black leather jacket, crimson shirt, light brown hat with a thin circular brim, and had vibrant ginger hair which fell to his shoulders, accompanied by an equally alarming moustache, which had strands of hair hanging down at either end.

  
Remarkably, Josiah produced a polite smile upon catching sight of this man. “Is this a new recruit, Dutch?”

  
“Indeed he is, Mr Trelawny. Josiah Trelawny and Delilah Lopez, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to Mr Micah Bell.”

  
Josiah was about to offer a hand, but didn’t get a chance since Micah sank into a dramatic mock bow. “It is an honour, my fellow cohorts.” He drew himself back to his full height. “Miss Lopez, why are you dressed in that way?”

  
Delilah opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by Dutch. “Miss Lopez is, in every sense, a contributing member of the community we have here. She dresses how she does for her convenience, and we couldn’t be more grateful. Despite only joining us about two weeks ago, she has already performed feats many of our strongest men wouldn’t dare to do alone. So I suggest you make an effort to keep on her good side.” It was said with a smile and friendly tone, which begged the question of how Micah had earned such favour.

  
“So, Micah,” Delilah leant an arm on Josiah’s shoulder and placed the other on her hip, “how did you find us?”

  
“I found him, actually.” Dutch again. “I was over in Roanoke Ridge, trying to sell some gold bullion we stole from a train over a month ago. It would have been done sooner if the gold wasn’t so easily traced. We had to wait until the heat died down before trading them for cash. Anyway, I was in the process of selling this stuff when the buyers started making all sorts of complaints about the deal and threatening me - unfairly, I emphasise. So Micah is sitting nearby, and just as the men are about to gun me down right in the middle of the saloon, he rushes over and throws them both to the ground. Several minutes later and we’ve knocked both of them out cold.”

  
Micah decided to add some detail here. “I wanted to drag them somewhere quiet and finish them off, just to be sure they wouldn’t come after us, but Dutch wouldn’t have it. Said there was no honour in murdering defenceless men.”

  
“Quite right,” Josiah said, nodding. “Who knows what an uncivilised mess we’d all be without Dutch’s counsel.” His serious expression melted away the second Delilah repositioned her arm so two of her fingers could stroke his cheek, just as they had done earlier that morning.

  
At this sight, Dutch’s eyes widened a little, but other than that, there wasn’t much change in his appearance. “I take it you two enjoyed your trip to Saint Denis.”

  
Josiah answered. “It was just fantastic, I couldn’t have wished for anything to have been better. The day before the party, we explored the city together. I helped pick Delilah’s outfit for the occasion. It was this long dark blue dress with a matching hat, and she looked absolutely stunning. Undoubtedly the most beautiful person there.”

  
Dutch sighed lightly and bowed his head to hide his grin.

Thankfully, Micah spoke up.

  
“So where is this dress?”

  
Now was Delilah’s chance to change the subject. “We sold it to the Saint Denis fence to ensure Josiah’s money wasn’t waisted. So Dutch, what did you and Micah do with the bodies?”

  
“Oh, yes. We carried them a way into the woods and left them there to recover. Out of the generosity of my heart, I put the gold in their pockets and took the money they had been carrying to pay for it, before they got all sour and demanded I sell to them for less.”

  
“You left them - in the woods - in Roanoke Ridge?” Delilah said slowly to ensure she’d heard correctly.

  
“Yes. Why, do you know the place?”

  
She sighed. “Of course I know the place, and it’s famous for its black bear population. Those men will be lucky if they haven’t been eaten alive.”

  
Dutch looked genuinely alarmed, and Delilah realised that telling him this may not have been the best thing. “Calm down, as long as you left them close to the town they shouldn’t be in danger.”

  
Micah tutted as he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Like I said Dutch, just shooting them would’ve been much safer.”

  
Frown lines were clear on Dutch’s face. “Yes, you’re probably right, Micah.” He was making an expression that seemed to foreshadow him pulling out a handkerchief and wiping sweat off his brow.

  
Delilah sighed. This was really dragging on. “Well, it’s not like you can ride back over there and rectify it, especially if this happened yesterday as I’ve assumed.” At this, both Dutch and Micah nodded. “And I suppose that after this, you invited Micah to join us due to his quick thinking and usefulness in close range combat?

  
“Actually, we talked for a while, and it became apparent-“

  
“I’m sure it did. Here’s the money from yesterday’s theft.” Delilah emptied her pockets of cash and Josiah, catching on, did the same. Dutch counted the money while Micah leaned over his shoulder, muttering to himself in an attempt to keep up.

  
“Over two thousand dollars! You two really do make an excellent team.” Dutch shook both of them by the hands. “Josiah, you should get back out there as soon as possible, scouting out other opportunities like this. They could be invaluable to making sure we’re fully prepared when we move on to Blackwater.”

  
“Blackwater?” Micah’s eyebrows shot up. “What will we be doing there?”

  
“Taking advantage of the town’s thriving economy, Mr Bell. With any luck, we’ll make enough to journey even further west and give these good people the new start they all deserve.”

  
“Of course, Dutch.” His constant exaggerated body movements combined with a voice as unpleasant as metal grating against metal did not flatter him much more than his attire and facial structure.

  
Josiah cleared his throat, picking up on Delilah’s impatience.

“Lovely to meet you, Mr Bell. If you don’t mind, I ought to ready my belongings before I head off for Annesburg. A most disagreeable town by all accounts, but your talk of Roanoke Ridge has inspired me. Besides, I’m sure we can find a way to make some money off their mining business. That or the railroad they’re building.”

He tipped his hat and walked away, Delilah at his side. When they seated themselves besides the blankets Josiah had been sleeping on lately, Delilah stood by as he opened his suitcase and began loading it with various possessions.

  
“If someone had given you a dollar for every time you complimented me, I would have understood, but did you really have to say quite so much about what we got up to in Saint Denis?”

  
“Can you blame me for enjoying talking about you? And you were the one who drew attention to it, when you started running your fingers along my face.”

  
“Oh, I’m sorry. But I’m glad we got out of it, otherwise we’d have been talking even longer. Thank goodness for Micah asking about the dress.” She sighed, knowing her next words would probably get Josiah feeling embarrassed for her. “Talk about being saved by the Bell.”

  
He gave her an unimpressed stare. “Well that was an embarrassingly unoriginal joke.”

  
“And that was an embarrassingly unoriginal response.”

  
“My apologies for speaking.” He closed the lid of the suitcase and flicked the clasps shut. Standing up and dusting off his suit, he said, “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but I don’t doubt you’ll get plenty of good work done in the meantime. When I return, I can only hope you’ll have decided to take me up on my earlier offer.”

  
He gently took her hand and kissed it so lightly Delilah hardly felt it. “I’ll certainly consider it.”

  
“Glad to hear it.” And with that he strode past her, joy etched on his face. She watched as he climbed onto his horse and rode off into the trees, soon out of sight.

Delilah retrieved her belongings from Lorelei and set them beside her bed. Lying down, she gazed up at the tarpaulin draped above her, at every crease, at the way light sneaked down under and reflected off it as if it were a precious metal. Eventually she snapped out of the thoughts that had her enthralled and sat up to ponder the objects she had sitting next to her on a wooden crate. Journal. Quill. Ink. A trinity of possessions that had been at her side longer than any living being. Except for Lorelei, whom she had chosen three months before it became necessary to pick up a hobby. Within those three months her thoughts had been thoroughly occupied.

  
The perfectly square box sitting beside these objects remained untouched since she’d brought it here. Delilah didn’t particularly feel like opening it any time soon, but it did remind her that at some point she would need to revisit the post office in town.

  
Hardly thirty seconds later, Jenny came strolling over.

  
“Heard you were back. That new bloke, Micah I think it was, was keenly chatting to me and the other girls. I think you should know, he said - more like described, in quite some detail -“ she glanced down at the ground as if embarrassed, and it was then that Delilah realised that Jenny couldn’t be much older than she was - her actual age, not the one she’d told the gang.

  
Jenny sighed and continued. “Basically what it comes down to is that he was implying all sorts of things about you and Trelawny and he said that you two had a really ‘close’ look about you, based on how you...were...running your fingers along his cheek?”

  
Throughout this whole speech Delilah just sat there with her legs crossed, not looking very bothered by it all. “Do you find that hard to believe?”

  
“You mean it’s true?”

  
“Not the implications, but the fingers part.”

  
“Alright...” Jenny looked around her absentmindedly and ran a hand through her hair. “I can’t deny, I was hoping that given how well the two of you seemed to get along, you’d be able to help each other out, and I’m definitely happy for you. I’m just surprised you were so willing to open up to him given how...closed off you generally are.”

  
Delilah shrugged as she reached into her pocket and placed a cigarette in between her lips before lighting it and taking a puff. She never smoked more than once a day. “Guess that means things played out unexpectedly.”

  
Jenny folded her arms. “You’re so nonchalant about all this. How long did you know you had feelings for him?”

  
Delilah tilted her head and gave a look that clearly said ‘how many more questions do you plan on asking’ to which Jenny raised her hands and nodded, acknowledging that she had a point.

  
“Alright, I get it, you need some time to think. Fancy joining me for some chores in town? Pretty much the same as last time, we have some stuff that needs picking up. Only catch is that Micah has to come too, Dutch wants him to learn the ropes of all aspects of gang life.”

  
Delilah pushed herself to her feet. “That’s a disadvantage I’ll be able to overlook. As long as he doesn’t keep prying into our conversation.”

  
“I’m afraid I can’t promise that. I can’t lie, he hasn’t made a great first impression. I can tell the other girls were equally unimpressed with him scurrying over to bring us gossip as if they were childhood friends. He has yet to earn our respect, he doesn’t just get to act like we’re on good terms.”

  
Delilah placed a hand on her hip, somewhat taken aback by Jenny’s attitude. “I’m surprised you’ve decided not to be the open-minded, welcoming type. You were with me.”

  
“To be fair, at that point you’d killed a bear. And you didn’t introduce yourself by saying rude things about someone I consider a friend.”

  
“That’s what this is about? You’re upset about what he said about me?”

  
Jenny frowned slightly. “Of course I am. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and the fact that Micah has either drawn completely incorrect conclusions or is exaggerating for his own amusement - because it didn’t amuse us, I can tell you that - is not an appealing first impression.”

  
Delilah gave a genuine smile. “Thank you, Jenny. I don’t deserve such selfless loyalty.”

  
“And I didn’t deserve the very expensive Schofield you bought me, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

  
They both laughed as they headed over to where the all too familiar outline of Micah waited by the wagon. Jenny made to move around to the other side of the raised seating so she could ride shotgun while Delilah drove, but Micah climbed into the back of the wagon and stepped over onto the seat before she had a chance, giving what could loosely be described as a victory cough. Jenny gave him an only partially sarcastic glare before walking to the back of the wagon and climbing into the spacious storage area.

Taking the reigns, Delilah guided the vehicle out of camp and onto the plains, headed in the direction of Valentine. Micah gave another one of his irritating coughs - out of the corner of her eye Delilah saw Jenny fold her arms in irritation - before he leaned so close to Delilah that she shuffled to her left in order to have more space.

  
“So, Miss Lopez...” he drawled out the name as if dragging it through mud, “do tell us about your relationship with our good Mr Trelawny.”

Delilah could just sense Jenny teetering on the edge of saying something regrettable so she got there first, speaking in a calm, level voice. “We are currently dating, but I get the feeling you already picked up on that.”

  
“Yes, your earlier gestures for instance.” Delilah’s peripheral vision told her he was licking his lips in an exaggerated manner.

“Have you ever been with a man before, Miss Lopez?”

  
“Hey!” Jenny leaned in their direction. “Do you mind, Bell? She’s already told you she’s in a relationship, that means you have no right to ask those sorts of questions.”

  
Delilah turned and gave her a grateful smile before speaking.

“Thank you, Jenny. I couldn’t have put it better myself. If this level of ‘conversation’ continues, Bell, you’ll find yourself being sold to the Valentine auction like all the other sheep. At least your value won’t be able to deprecate over time.”

  
She knew she’d won - if only temporarily - when he gradually shuffled towards the other end of the bench, face drooping and his straw-like hair sagging down like elephant’s ears. A satisfied ‘hmm’ was barely audible from Jenny, while Micah muttered something sounding like, “no need to be so aggressive.” Needless to say, the rest of the journey continued in silence, with Micah staring at the passing scenery.

  
When they arrived in Valentine, Delilah guided the wagon into the space next to the stables and they all climbed off. Jenny handed Micah a piece of paper on which all Pearson’s requests were written.

  
“You can get all that food from the general store and then get us ammo from the gunsmith.”

  
“And what will you two be doing?”

  
“We-“ Jenny glanced at Delilah and gave a nod to suggest she should go along with what she said, “will be collecting the gang’s mail from the post office.”

  
Micah looked outraged. “So while you two are walking to the post office and back I have to carry heavy crates of food and ammunition on my own?”

  
Delilah tutted in mock disappointment (you can’t really be disappointed when someone reacts as you expected they would). “Come on, Micah. Making two younger women do the work for you? And we had such high hopes for you.”

  
He grunted and marched away towards the general store. As soon as he was out of earshot Jenny started laughing.

  
“Could Dutch have found anyone more unpleasant? Anyway, I’m sure that by this point you fully understand why I didn’t like him.”

  
“I assume that’s sarcasm because at this point it’s impossible not to understand. I didn’t know we had mail to collect.”

  
“We don’t. I just thought we could use some time devoid of Micah so we can finally talk. Not to mention you’ll want to see if you have a letter from that friend of yours.”

  
“About that...” Delilah thought about how best to phrase it while she followed Jenny towards the post office, “his last letter told me not to write back until he did, so there probably won’t be any letter.”

  
“Oh. Why?”

  
“He wasn’t happy with me joining a gang without consulting him.”

  
“Well that’s rude. Controlling much?”

  
“It isn’t really like that with us. We’ve known each other for so long that I guess we always thought that when I moved into a criminal life it would be together. He feels betrayed, and I understand that.”

  
“It’s your life, you should get to do what you want. Is that all though?”

  
“What else should there be?”

  
“It clearly bothers you. You may understand but I don’t think you sympathise.”

  
Delilah sighed. “That tends to be the way with me. You’re right, it bothers me, but there isn’t anything either of us can do about the others’ reactions, so I’ll just have to get used to it. It’s strange though, we’ve been writing to each other regularly for years. I miss the reliability. But you’re right about the other part as well. He doesn’t own me.”

  
Jenny gave a slow nod as she listened. “You say you’ve know each other for a while - how did you meet?”

  
“It’s a long story.”

  
“I’m happy to keep Micah waiting as long as it takes.”

  
“We, uh...met in the Valentine bar while I was looking for people to pickpocket. I considered pickpocketing him but once we started talking I realised he was a really nice person and couldn’t bring myself to do it. So we became friends.”

  
“Whose idea was it to start writing? And how did you find out his interests were just as criminal as yours?”

  
“He actually saw me rob a few people in the saloon, and eventually mentioned what a lonely line of work it is. Suggested we should write to avoid loneliness.”

  
“So after that encounter you parted ways and never saw each other again...and kept writing for the next few years?”

  
“Yep.”

  
“You know you’ve never even told me his name.”

  
“Why would you want to know? It’s probably an alias anyway.”

  
“Fine then, it can be your secret. So why did you give him your photo?”

  
“What?”

  
“When I saw the picture of you he drew you said you were pretty sure he had your photo. You were carrying a photo of yourself on you?”

  
“Well...” When Delilah remained silent for more than five seconds, eyes narrowed as if in thought, Jenny spoke suddenly.

  
“You’re lying aren’t you?”

  
“Where did you get that idea?”

  
“Firstly, you keep hesitating, and secondly, your story doesn’t make any sense. You never mentioned any sort of pact between you and this random man you just met to start proper criminal work together, and yet that’s a central point in him disregarding you. I could go on.”

  
“Alright, you’re right, I lied, but it’s for the best.”

  
“Delilah, I don’t mind if there are things about your past you don’t want to talk about. But don’t feel the need to lie about it. Nobody’s perfect, and given that we’re in a gang nobody is expected to have a flawless past. If you don’t want to talk about it, just say so, don’t insult me by making up stuff off the top of your head.”

  
“Got it. Sorry.”

  
“I’m sorry too, I didn’t know this was such a sensitive topic.”

  
“Don’t worry.” Delilah was relieved to see they had arrived outside the post office. “I guess we’ll find out if he’s worth the trouble of lying.”

Delilah approached the man in uniform and gave her name. To her surprise he returned with an envelope. She hadn’t expected Roger to give in so easily - this was a matter of pride after all, and they were both very stubborn when it came to defending their honour. Looking at her name on the envelope, she saw there was an ink blot at the end of her name, which was probably deliberate given that until recently, every one of his envelopes had been spotless.

Jenny awkwardly read the notices just as she had done last time, only her head sagged a little, clearly upset that Delilah didn’t trust her as much as she had thought, while Delilah seated herself on the nearby wooden bench and used her standard knife to cut the paper open.

Pulling out the sheet within, it turned out to be an ink drawing - exasperatingly accurate - of a small creek flowing underneath a canopy of tall trees and contained by rocks. It was an altogether far too cozy setting. Underneath the drawing was written ‘Ringneck Creek. Found reason to visit lately.’

The back of the sheet also had a little writing: ‘DL - I trust you haven’t been kicked out yet. I must say, when you said you were hoping for a change I thought it would be out of the Heartlands at the least. Horseshoe Overlook is a little close to home, don’t you think? RVL.’

  
Delilah couldn’t stop her eyes widening a little once she read those words. Knowing that he had been by Ringneck Creek in Lemoyne was bad enough, but the Heartlands were her turf. That had always been an unspoken clause in the contract of their strange friendship. How on earth did he know the gang was camping at Horseshoe Overlook? Either word of a large group of mysterious campers had spread and he’d worked out the rest, or he’d seen them with his own eyes. Neither option was ideal.  
Paying for some stationary, Delilah wrote a quick reply on a blank sheet, folding Roger’s letter and putting it in her pocket.

‘RVL,  
Whether or not you’ve been in the Heartlands doesn’t matter to me. At least you were in Lemoyne and that makes me wonder whether this so-called KKK elimination down in West Elizabeth is taking as much of your attention as you claim.  
DL  
P.S any time you want to apologise for insulting me for making something of myself rather than striving to be just as self pitying as you are, you know where I’ll be.’

Addressing and sealing the envelope, Delilah stood up to head over to the man to pay for its delivery. After she’d done so, she beckoned for Jenny and the two of them headed back to the wagon.

  
“So...what did he have to say? An honest answer would be ideal, but silence is my second choice.”

  
“He knows where the gang’s camping.”

  
“How?”

  
“That tends not to be relevant. It surprised me as I thought he had some other work elsewhere, but either he’s more efficient than I thought or-“

  
“You’re more important to him than you thought?”

  
It took a lot of effort not to roll her eyes. With as much patience as possible, Delilah said, “Jenny, please don’t start this again. I really don’t want to hear it.”

  
“Fine, I’ll approach things differently. Why are you and Josiah together?”

  
That was unexpected. “Why do you think? It’s like you said. We get on well.”

  
“You’ve never struck me as the openly emotional type. That’s why I was surprised you and Josiah were together, and even more surprised when Micah came to tell us that you’d made that affection public knowledge the day after it came to pass.”

  
“What point are you trying to make?”

  
Jenny sighed. “I’m not trying to be rude, only helpful. The last time we went to that post office together you told me that if Lenny ever confessed his feelings I needed to be honest with him rather than being ‘kind’ to spare his feelings. I’m trying to return the favour now. Do you actually have feelings for Josiah?”

  
Delilah stopped walking and turned to her. “Fifteen minutes ago you were saying you were happy that he and I are together. What exactly has changed your mind?”

  
Jenny shifted uncomfortably and looked at the dried mud beneath her just as she’d looked down before recounting Micah’s news. “I just find it odd that you can talk about your strange friend for ages but haven’t mentioned Josiah once.”

  
“You never asked about him.”

  
“That doesn’t matter. If you were truly smitten you would be going on about him non stop.”

  
“I react differently than most people.”

  
“I know, and not even giving me the name of this person, and also lying about your connection to them makes me think that you’re more closely connected than you want people to think.”

  
“Well, what do you want me to do? Run away back to him and abandon all of you?”

  
“I don’t know. That’s up to you. I’m just trying to help you be honest with yourself.”

  
“Fine, I’ll be honest. If you really have my best interests at heart, why try to convince me that - what, I...care about him?”

  
“You’ve never said you didn’t.”

  
“Irrelevant. Answer the question.”

  
“It’s simple. We’re friends, and I can tell that no matter how much you pretend otherwise, you’re a pretty good person.”

  
As they started walking again, a humourless laugh escaped Delilah’s lips. Softly, she said, “next you’ll be saying I’m perfect.”

  
“I wouldn’t go that far. Like I said a while ago, nobody’s perfect.”

  
They walked the next sixty seconds in silence before arriving back at the wagon where - they were pleased to find - Micah had been kept waiting for some time.  
“Did you get the mail?”

  
Jenny answered. “Unfortunately not. I do hope you didn’t mind waiting.”

  
“Not at all,” he grumbled while climbing into the back of the wagon and seating himself atop one of the ammunition crates purchased from the gunsmith. Delilah and Jenny sat at the front, with Jenny taking the reins for the return journey. As soon as they were out of Valentine, Micah started talking.

  
“So I assume you two had fun walking to and from the post office.”

  
Delilah shrugged as if it were obvious. “Naturally. Nothing like soaking up the local culture and sights.”

  
“What sights?”

  
“Post office, train tracks, train, horses, dogs - shall I go on?”

  
“I hardly think that will be necessary.” A few seconds of silence before he changed the subject. “I’ve been to this town before and it’s improved considerably since then.”

  
Delilah raised an eyebrow. “It’s improved considerably since you left? I could have inferred that much. Most things do, it would seem.”

  
Missing the insult, Micah kept talking. “I saw that the saloon’s managed to smarten up. Either of you ladies been there before?”

  
Jenny and Delilah exchanged tired glances. Jenny responded. “Of course we have.”

  
“I’d be willing to bet it would be much nicer if you could have shared such a trip with someone...invested in your satisfaction.”

  
Jenny turned to him. “Neither of us want your company, Micah. Probably because the things you say come off as really creepy. And you are also equally creepy.”

  
“Oh sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to offend.”

  
“Just shut up, alright? It’s the only way you’re remotely likeable.”

*****

Finally arriving back at camp was a great relief for both the girls. Micah instantly sauntered off, leaving them to carry the food to Pearson’s wagon and the ammunition to the empty wagon against which multiple repeaters leaned. While they carried out these tasks, Jenny continued complaining about Micah.

  
“That guy saved Dutch’s life? Have you seen him though? I can tell by looking at him he hasn’t got a selfless bone in his body. There must have been an ulterior motive for it.” She paused to consider this for a while before arriving at a conclusion. “He must be an O’Driscoll spy!”

  
“No O’Driscoll spy would be as openly stupid as he is. And how would a spy know exactly where to run into Dutch at a moment which proved his ‘usefulness’?”

  
“Fair enough. The whole dumb thing could just be an act though.”

  
“Why would anyone with an ulterior motive act dumb on purpose? It makes them stand out far more than necessary.”

  
“Alright, so we’re saying he’s dumb and has no excuse?”

  
“Glad we’re on the same page.”

  
Once they had finished their tasks, they got some warm soup from Pearson and sat down at one of the circular wooden tables to eat it. Jenny hadn’t finished her verbal attack on Micah.

  
“Seriously, I can’t believe how rude he is! The atmosphere at camp has gotten heavier since he arrived.”

  
“That’s a metaphor, right?”

  
Jenny raised an ominous eyebrow. “For now.”

  
“Well you have a point, it’s only a matter of time before he’s harassing everyone.”

  
“He harasses everyone just by being here.” Jenny sighed and blew on her soup angrily.

“Someone has to put him in his place.”

  
At that Delilah had an idea.

“Challenge accepted.”

  
“Alright, what are you planning?”

  
“Telling you would spoil the fun.”

  
“Are you doing whatever you’re doing because you want to or because you feel that you owe me? If so, please don’t, I didn’t mean to be rude earlier, just-“

  
“Trust me, I was the rude one.” In a visual demonstration of her point, Delilah set down her spoon and picked up the bowl with both hands, tipping the rest of the soup into her mouth. Once she’d swallowed it, she wiped her mouth and turned back to Jenny.

“You were just trying to help, unaware that I’m probably beyond that point. But I can help with our collective Micah problem, and can currently think of few things that would give me greater pleasure.”

  
“In that case, all power to you.”

  
Delilah looked around and was unsurprised to see Micah talking to Mary-Beth, who had a look on her face as though she’d just been asked to eat rotting flesh.

  
“Hey, Micah!” Delilah gave an exaggerated wave. “Come over!”

  
While Micah gave what she assumed was an overly dramatic farewell speech to Mary-Beth, Jenny leaned over to Delilah and whispered, “I know you’re going to do this with other people’s good interests at heart, but would Josiah approve? He likes you for how real and honest you are, for your sweet side. If you want a chance with him, maybe you shouldn’t do this, and the last thing I want is to feel responsible for things not going well with you two. As I said, you deserve your happiness, just-“

  
“That’s not my problem. Trust me, my sweet side is very much currently at play here due to the fact I haven’t already put a bullet through Micah’s skull.”

  
When Micah came over, he sat down on the edge of the table and leaned over towards Delilah.

“What can I do for you, my good Delilah?”

  
She stood up. “How would you like to go hunting with me? You seem like a strong man, I’m sure you’re more than capable of killing a few coyotes.”

  
Micah coughed significantly and drew himself to his full height. “Oh, I used to hunt all the time. Don’t worry Miss Lopez, I shall make sure no harm comes to you.” Standing up and straightening his jacket, he turned back to her. “Are we leaving now?”

  
“Yes. I’ll fetch some bait from the supply wagon and then we can head into the hills east of Valentine, I’m sure we’ll find some there.”

  
Micah headed off to ready his weapons while Delilah walked to the wagon, Jenny hurrying behind her.

  
“Should I be worried about what you’re planning?”

  
“Not in the slightest.” Delilah picked up two packets of bait and carried them to Lorelei, putting them in the saddlebag. “I’m fairly sure I can convince Micah that not harassing people is in his best interests.”

  
“Good luck with that.”

  
Delilah climbed onto her horse, Jenny headed away to do some chores, and Micah rode over looking quite smug, believing he had won Delilah over.

The two over them rode out of camp, signalling to John, who was on guard duty, that they were going hunting. They rode out onto the plains and towards Valentine, but when they neared the town they turned right and headed up and over the hill that lead them to the plains near the recently constructed Cornwall oil factory, which the train tracks ran through. The area was dotted with tall rock cliffs that separated the plains into segments.

  
“So, Micah, tell me about yourself. What were you doing before you joined us?”

  
“I’ll be frank with you, Miss Lopez. I was on the run.”

  
“Was hoping for a little more than that.”

  
“In certain states the law are still pursuing me for a double homicide.”

  
“I fear this question is somewhat redundant, but dare I ask, were you responsible?”

  
“Just between you and me, yes, it was my father and I. He was named Micah too, just like his father, and his father before that - at least I assume so. It’s a family name, and one that I am proud to have been given. My brother Amos didn’t get so lucky.”

  
“If it isn’t too difficult, may I ask where he is?”

  
“Couldn’t care less about the spineless bastard. He and that wretched wife of his moved to California some time ago. We never got along, never had the same priorities in life. He doesn’t deserve the Bell name. Could’ve killed him, but he’ll kill himself with the life he’s trying to live. Never works in a world where you have to put your own interests first.”

He turned to Delilah. “You know, I think the two of us are quite similar, Miss Lopez. Both of us are outsiders in this gang. But, if we were to work together” - his raised eyebrows and tone of voice gave Delilah the awful feeling those words were a euphemism - “I reckon we could both benefit very much from our less than desirable situations.”

  
“And what situations are those, Mr Bell?”

  
“You’re trapped with a man you clearly don’t love, and I, well - I’m a lonely man, Delilah.”

  
The way he dragged out the vowels in her name would have made most girls feel sick, but it merely amused her. Delilah often wondered if she was emotionally numb or just mentally disturbed. Probably both. Anger was the emotion she had let herself live and feed on for years; by now every other feeling had paled in comparison.

  
“What makes you think I’m trapped? I’m happy with Josiah.”

  
“You needn’t pretend, Miss Lopez. I could tell from the moment I saw you that you’d never throw yourself away on such a dull person without something to gain.”

  
“I suppose you consider yourself worthy of my attention?”

  
“Indeed I do. And it’ll be proven when I stand victorious over the dead bodies of a whole gang of coyotes.”

  
“The collective term is pack, not gang.”

  
“As you wish.”

  
Sick of what could politely be considered conversation, Delilah brought Lorelei to a halt. “I say we set the bait here. The land is quite open, we can easily spot any approaching predators.”

  
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Micah also climbed off his horse, and the two of them threw their reins over a large nearby rock. While Micah was loading his rifle, Delilah removed both packs of bait from her saddlebag and held one out of sight while tossing the other to Micah.

  
“Set the bait down anywhere. Then you can get behind those trees and I’ll go behind that rock on the ridge.”

  
Delilah stood by him while he set up the bait as if to watch how it was done, but opened the second pack of bait behind her back and tipped it over Micah’s back. They headed off to their different positions and waited for at least five minutes without anything happening.

*****

Micah eventually got bored and headed out of the trees to check on the bait. The timing couldn’t have been more ideal. Not thirty seconds later a pack of seven coyotes came running out from the trees, the wind direction having carried the scent straight to them.

Grabbing the rifle he had set on the ground, Micah managed to shoot four, but they were approaching him very quickly. All the time Delilah didn’t even aim her gun despite his cries for her help.

One coyote jumped at him so suddenly that he was thrown to the ground and the rifle flew out of his grasp. Drawing a knife from his belt, he plunged it into the coyote’s stomach and its body slumped down on top of him. The second he pushed it off, the remaining two coyotes were competing to sink their teeth into his flesh and he was flailing his knife and other arm, trying to injure them, but it was obvious the animals were gaining control of the fight.

  
Out of his peripheral vision Micah could see Delilah, who had made her way down from the hill and was just standing nearby, watching.

  
“What the hell are you doing? Help me!”

  
One coyote’s teeth crashed against his left arm, tearing his jacket and drawing blood. As satisfying as Micah’s cries of desperation were to listen to, Delilah finally aimed her rifle and shot both coyotes in the head. Micah wriggled backwards, kicking their bodies away from him. He was too exhausted to stand but turned to her with fury in his voice.

  
“You useless bitch! You almost got me killed!”

  
Replacing her rifle in the straps lying across her back, Delilah walked towards him slowly and crouched beside him. “And you...” the fingers of her left hand tapped absentmindedly on his knee as she gave him an expressionless gaze. “Are rude.”

  
“How does that relate-“

  
Suddenly Delilah grabbed the front of his shirt in her fist and pulled him up, so close to her own face that they could have kissed, and yet that thought would never enter his mind again once he stared into the bottomless dark pits of her eyes, which had no room for pity nor mercy. Her voice hissed in displeasure as she nearly growled in his face.

“I am bored of listening to you spitting out obscenities that could make the skin of decent, deserving people crawl. Now I am not normal.” She drew her standard knife from where it hung on the back of her belt and turned it over in her hand as she spoke, watching Micah’s wide eyes follow her every movement with fear.

“That is why I am prepared to concede that, as much as it irritates me, you may have been right when you said we were similar. We aren’t in this gang because we believe in it’s ideals, hence why I am currently threatening what could, at best, be called your life, rather than discussing my grievances with you in a more civilised manner. Take the hint that I was willing to get the coyotes get their claws on you once, and I will do far worse if you keep your current standard of behaviour up, not just with me and my friends, but everyone in this gang. Suffice it to say that if you don’t use what little intelligence is hidden behind that manky mane of yours and back off, the only bell you need to worry about will be the one ringing at your funeral.”

Delilah stood up, still running a finger over the blade of her knife. “Not that it will be a popular event.”

  
Approaching the coyotes’ corpses, Delilah kicked one over with her foot. “This one looks like it has a nice pelt. I’ll skin it and take it back to Pearson, he’ll appreciate the meat and I’m sure the pelt will be worth a few dollars.”

Looking up at Micah, who had resumed clutching his injured arm, with a sweet smile, she added, “I’ll skin another and put the corpse on your horse for you. You should head to the doctor’s in Valentine and get that looked at.”

She raised her knife and then said, “I recommend not speaking of today’s events to anyone. It won’t end well.”

  
With that she plunged her blade into the beast’s belly.

*****

Delilah was pleased to see that when it was time for dinner Micah was still giving her stares of hatred but wouldn’t dare say a rude word to anyone. She helped herself to a pear and a few slices of bread and sat down by the cliff edge to eat it alone, enjoying the way the wind brushed against her body, prompting her to shuffle forward just a little to see if she could fly.

It was by this edge she had sat before she and Josiah headed down to Saint Denis. Oh, how things had changed since then, and not just because of Micah’s arrival. Things felt different. Jenny knew she had lied, and acted as though it didn’t bother her, but the fact that Jenny kept apologising when she hadn’t done anything wrong said it all.

  
Another letter from Roger - alarmingly soon. Maybe the paper had been soaked in a slow acting poison. No. He wouldn’t do that. If he wanted her dead he’d do it himself and make her look in his eyes, knowing he’d won. But they weren’t like that. Neither of them would ever kill the one person capable of understanding them. Every part of them.

  
Delilah had acknowledged Micah to be correct when he said there were similarities between them. She acted like it hadn’t bothered her, but it did, a little. She despised Micah. And it made sense to feel the same way about herself. Which was why she always had. It made things better. Hating herself meant that no matter what she did, it couldn’t get worse. It made cruelty so much easier.

  
“How you doing?” Delilah looked up to see Arthur standing beside her chewing on some bread. He sat down next to her and waited for an answer.

  
“Great, thank you.”

  
“Sure you don’t want to come over and eat with the rest of us?”

  
“No thanks. I enjoy the quiet.”

  
“Well, I was going to suggest the two of us head down to the Valentine saloon for a drink and a chat.”

  
Delilah turned to him, curious. “What about?”

  
“Who knows. Current affairs, gang plans, that sort of thing.”

  
“In that case I’ll put my distaste for noise aside and accompany you.”

  
Making sure the gang were aware they were leaving, the two rode to the Valentine saloon in under five minutes.

  
As they tethered their horses, Arthur said, “so I hear you and Mr Trelawny are now romantically involved.”

  
“You heard correctly. From Micah I assume?”

  
“I’m afraid so.” He sighed and shook his head. “Doesn’t seem like the most reliable person Dutch could have found. Earlier today he was blabbering about you like there’s no tomorrow and now he’s clammed up as if someone chopped his tongue off.”

  
“I like the sound of that.”

  
“You two went hunting today - I assume he wasn’t overly helpful?”

  
“Got himself injured, had to go to the doctor’s while I did the skinning. Can’t say I was that surprised.”

  
“So that’s how those scratches happened.” The two of them sat down at the bar. “I saw him checking the bandage on his arm earlier today and decided it might be better not to bring it up.”

  
“I’m not keen to talk to the fellow either. He comes across as very unpleasant. But I get the feeling we aren’t here to talk about Micah.”

  
“Correct.” Arthur summoned the bartender over. “Beer?”

  
“Whisky. I’ll pay.” She handed over fifty cents while Arthur paid for a beer. A few seconds later their drinks arrived.

  
“So, what gives?”

  
“How are you finding gang life?”

  
“Perfectly pleasant.”

  
“Glad to hear it. I must echo everyone else when I say your contributions have been astounding. Dutch told me you and Trelawny managed to get over two thousand dollars from the party robbery. You two really are an excellent team.”

  
“Why thank you.”

  
“And who was that fellow you set out to capture for his bounty but ended up stealing all his money?”

  
“Fenton Jones.”

  
“That was very impressive. I haven’t a clue how you managed to get the better of him and survive an avalanche.”

  
“I can’t deny, a lot of that is luck.”  
Arthur chuckled. “A lot of life is luck.”

  
Delilah raised her glass. “Cheers to that.” They touched glasses and drank in silence for several seconds.

  
“I hope you aren’t trying to get me drunk,” she said jokingly.  
He laughed. “I wouldn’t dare, Miss Lopez. If I wanted to get drunk, you wouldn’t be my drinking partner of choice.”

  
“Should I be flattered or offended?”

  
“You should be relieved.”

  
“Alright, I’ll give you that one.” She took another long drink. The glass was now almost empty. “What is it you want to ask me? There’s clearly something.”

  
“Ah, yes. How are you and Trelawny?”

“Just fine.”

  
“I can’t deny, I never saw you as a romantic, let alone a romantic who would be interested in him.”

  
“So?”

  
“So I’m curious about your long term hopes. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”

  
She laughed. “I doubt I have anything to worry about.”

  
“Still, you’re in a gang. That’s never a great environment for a meaningful relationship.”

  
Delilah narrowed her eyes. “I honestly don’t know if you’re trying to protect me or get rid of me.”

  
“I’m trying to give you honest advice, Delilah. After everything you’ve done for this gang, I’d be a fool not to trust you, and although we’re not family yet, I would like to see you and Josiah happy after all you’ve been through, both in the past and right now.”

  
“Excuse me, Miss.” Delilah turned around to see an unfamiliar man sitting on her other side. She hadn’t heard him sit down after her so she assumed he’d been there for some time. “Did I catch that your name is Delilah?”

  
“Yes, w-“

  
“That’s such a pretty name. May I have the honour of buying you a drink?”

  
“Um...if you insist.”

  
“I do. What shall it be?”

  
Delilah decided to have a change. “A beer, please. Do I know you?”

  
“Of course not. I’ve seen you come in here a few times over the last few months though, and couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you are.”

  
“Thank you,” she muttered uncomfortably, and shifted to look at Arthur. “You were saying?”

  
“I’ll cut to the chase. You’re tough, and have been through hard times. That causes you to look at the world in a way which - God forbid - our good Mr Trelawny will never have to understand. Unfortunately that means there will always be a part of you he will never understand.”

  
Tell me something I don’t know, Delilah thought. But looking at the genuine concern in Arthur’s face and voice, she realised something. “You’re speaking from experience, aren’t you?”

  
“You’re very perceptive, Miss Lopez.”

  
She nodded slowly in understanding. “When we went after the bear you warned me that you were once arrogant, and that it didn’t end well. Is that what-“

  
“That was about something else. Something I will feel guilty for every day of my life.” He took a long drink and it was clear he didn’t want to discuss the topic further. “You have an excellent memory.”

  
“I guess I do. And I understand what you’re saying. I should be careful not to put too much into a relationship that is threatened by not only the lives we live but also our differences. But trust me, it’ll take more than a failed relationship to hurt me.”

  
“That is where we’re different, Miss Lopez.” Once again they touched glasses and finished their drinks. Just in time, the man next to Delilah nudged her shoulder and slid her a beer.

  
“Thanks.” She picked it up with both hands and raised it to her mouth. But as she did so she smelled something, a smell she knew very well - and it was certainly not beer.

  
Slowly lowering the glass Delilah looked at the man. She definitely hadn’t seen him before, which didn’t surprise her.

  
“I don’t know how to thank you. This is really kind.”

  
“Don’t mention it. I’m just glad it got me an audience with you.”

  
“So am I. I can hardly hear you in here, why don’t we head outside so we can talk properly?”

  
The thought seemed to cheer the man, who stood and headed for the saloon’s back door. Delilah rose and started to follow him only for Arthur to grab her arm and hiss, “what are you doing? What about Josiah?”

  
Rolling her eyes and deciding to attribute his willingness to believe her unfaithful due to the effects of the beer, Delilah wrenched her arm free and quickly said, “don’t worry. I’ll be back soon,” before heading off to catch up.

  
Once she and the man were standing outside round the back of the saloon, Delilah set the beer down on one of the posts of a wooden fence. Nervously, he said, “changing your mind about the alcohol?”

  
“Never.” Smiling, she turned to him and beckoned him forwards. He walked over slowly, and Delilah took his hand in hers, running the other through his pale brown hair. “Do tell me your name, my kind stranger.”

  
“Lucas.” He withdrew slightly from the touch of her hand, looking as if he were about to ask her to stop.

  
“So, Lucas, maybe you could enlighten me-“ her left hand gripped a handful of his hair in its fist and pulled his head down closer to her height. Before he could think about struggling, she pulled her poison knife from her belt with her right hand and held it to his throat. “It’s poisoned, don’t think about moving or one scratch will kill you. Anyway, do enlighten me as to why you just tried to poison me.”

  
“What - I would never-“

  
“I can smell the oleander. It’s the very same poison that coats this knife. If I didn’t know better I’d say your employer and I are...somewhat likeminded.”

  
“Alright, I’ll tell you everything! I live in Strawberry with my wife and baby son, but we didn’t have much money and were worried we’d end up on the streets. Just over a week ago I got an anonymous letter in the post with a few packets of that herb saying that if were to kill you with it - it described you and said I should visit this saloon daily, you’d show up eventually - then I’d receive three thousand dollars. I promise I didn’t want to do it, but I was desperate!”

  
“And I bet your employer is really good at recognising desperate souls, isn’t he?” She seethed, tightening her grip on his hair and edging the knife closer to his throat.

  
“No! Please, you’ll never see me again! I’m so, so sorry, it was wrong of me I know, but I didn’t have a choice, you’d do the same for someone you love!”

  
“Well, that’s just the thing. I’ve never loved anyone.” Keeping a tight grip on his hair, she used two of her left hand’s fingers to pinch his nose, and when his mouth opened, desperate for air, she dropped her knife, snatched up the beer and poured it down his throat.

Lucas tried to spit it out, but Delilah knew it was too late when he began frothing at the mouth and clutching his throat. He sank to his knees, mouth attempted to form a scream but his voice had been snatched away faster than his life. As he looked up at Delilah, who picked up her knife and replaced it as if there weren’t a man clinging to life in front of her, tears began to fall down his cheek, and then his body fell face first into the mud.

  
Delilah gave a content sigh and was about to grab the man’s lifeless arms and move the body when a voice said, “was that really necessary?”

  
She jumped and turned to see Arthur leaning against the saloon wall. There was not a trace of mirth in his voice.

  
“How long have you been there?”

  
“Since he started begging you to spare him.” Arthur still hadn’t moved.

  
“Look, we can talk once this is fixed.” Delilah threw the glass and it’s remaining contents at the saloon wall and watched it shatter in an explosion of shiny shards. “Help me carry the body to the pigs.” She pointed to a pen of pigs not far away. “They’ll get rid of the evidence.”

  
“No.”

  
She took a step forward. “No?”  
“You heard me. Take that body to the pigs and he’ll never be seen again. His family will think he abandoned them. They deserve to know that he’s dead.”

  
Delilah tried to keep the worry out of her voice. “If they find this body, people will investigate his death. Someone might remember seeing him leave the saloon with me, and the second I step back into this town the law will be all over me. It’s not like there are many dark haired female gunslingers. It’s sheer luck that I’ve managed to keep out of the law’s sight for these last few years, if a bounty is put on my head-“

Realising none of these arguments were motivating him, she changed tactic. “That wouldn’t be good for me or the gang. They could track me back to all of you, and that will be a lot of unnecessary trouble for the lot of us. Besides, if I end up in jail-“ she brought a slight hint of smugness into her voice, “I might just rat you all out anyway.”

  
Arthur ran a hand along his beard for several seconds before exclaiming, as loudly as could be considered wise, “goddamn it!” and hurrying forward to grab Lucas’ legs. Delilah took his arms and in under ten seconds they had dumped the body in the pig pen.

They both walked back to the front of the saloon, mounted their horses and moved through Valentine at an agonisingly slow pace before they were back to a canter on the plains.

  
When they were sure they were at a safe distance, they slowed down so they could talk, and Arthur clearly had a lot to say.

“Why would you do that? The man said he wouldn’t try anything ever again, not to mention now you’ve seen him he wouldn’t have had the element of surprise!”

  
Calmly, Delilah answered, “I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t try again.”

  
“Was that the real reason? I’ve seen you shoot, I don’t think you’d have anything to fear.”

  
“Now he’s dead we’ll never have to find out.”

  
Arthur brought his horse to a sudden halt, forcing Delilah to nudge Lorelei to turn around and head back to him. “He had a family you know! People he loved, people he would have killed for!”

  
“What a shame the person he was ready to kill was me. For all he knew I might have been a church-goer dedicated to helping the poor.”

  
“It doesn’t make a difference, and we both know you’re no saint.” Arthur’s glare was so intense Delilah could deny - a part of her was afraid.

  
“What do you care? I bet you’ve done just as bad in the name of protecting this gang!”

  
“We are nothing alike. Firstly, you did that to protect yourself with no thought of what trouble it might cause us. Secondly, you didn’t even need a moment to think about what you were going to do. The poor man’s words didn’t even move you for a fraction of a second. You truly have no compassion.”

Biting his lip to contain his anger, Arthur seethed for a while before turning back to her. “Is what you told him really true? That you’ve never loved anyone? Not your own parents, not a friend?”

  
“I...” Delilah didn’t know what to say. “Of course not. I just said that in the heat of the moment.”

  
“Is that so? Because I can believe it. I’d probably pity you under different circumstances.” He sighed and shook his head. “You know, it was Jenny who asked me to take you for a drink. She said she’d talked to you about your-“ he flinched as if the word caused him pain, “relationship - with Josiah, and said she didn’t think you knew what you wanted. She said she really believed you were a good person, just one in a difficult situation who could use some advice from an older person. But now it all makes sense.”

  
“What makes sense?”

  
“You don’t even have the illusion of feelings for Josiah. You know you’ll never love him, and you’re just using him, to get prestige in the gang, a place in our future job, hell, maybe even for your own amusement. I wouldn’t put it past you.” He gave a humourless laugh and sank his head.

“And to think not ten minutes ago we were talking about what a dreadful person Micah is. If you don’t make some serious changes to your behaviour young lady, he’ll have nothing on you.”

  
Arthur dug his knees into his horse with a little too much force, but came to a halt a few feet away. His nexts words were spoken while staring directly ahead, as if Delilah weren’t there.

  
“I had a son once, with a waitress. I knew it could never work with my life so every few months I would drop by and give them money. One day I showed up to find two crosses outside the house where they lived. Turns out they were both shot dead in a robbery for ten dollars.” He turned his head toward her, but didn’t look at her, only at Lorelei’s hooves. “Very few people know that.”

  
It actually hurt to hear him like this - broken and remorseful. “I’m sorry.”

  
“No you’re not. You don’t love. You can’t understand.”

  
Delilah didn’t even bother to argue, just sat in her saddle with the starless sky wrapped above them. Eventually Arthur spoke, but his voice still had traces of the pain of his past.

  
“I’ll have to tell Dutch that someone’s out to kill you. It’s important for him to know all the threats to this gang. I suppose you managed to get that poor man to tell you who sent him?”

  
Thinking back to their earlier conversation, Delilah knew what to say. “Yes. Turns out Fenton Jones survived the avalanche, but he’s in bad shape. Can hardly walk. He wanted revenge on me for stealing everything he cared about.”

  
Arthur sighed. “He’s not the only one.” And with that he rode away in the direction of camp, leaving Delilah alone to contemplate the events of the evening.

It was while they fled Valentine after dumping the body that Delilah had realised why her drink had been poisoned. Not by whom - she’d known that from the moment she smelt the oleander - but why.

  
Suffice it to say that it was a remarkable coincidence that Roger had sent a drawing of Ringneck Creek, a place notorious for oleander growth, about a week ago. She would have got the letter sooner if she hadn’t delayed in visiting the post office.

But the fact that he had sent that meant he wanted her to know who was behind this little spectacle. He hadn’t been trying to kill her. Like she’d decided earlier, the two of them would never actually try to do so - as much as she was loath to admit it, it would be like losing a part of herself were she to kill him, and she knew it would be the same for him.

No, it was her reaction he had wanted, and he had known it would probably in the presence of a close friend in the gang. He knew she’d kill the man and be condemned for it, pushing her further out of the gang’s circle of trust. And she fell for it. It was only after the deed was done that she saw the trick.

  
Yet she couldn’t even blame him. This was all her. She’d always revelled in subconsciously blaming him for everything that had gone wrong in her life, but all the choices were hers. He just gave her the power to make them.

  
Power. What it all came down to. Even from wherever he was, Roger still had power over her. He always would. If she wanted to, not even killing him would change that. In death he’d still taunt and tease her.

  
Anyway, she’d miss their games too much. And right now she was losing.


End file.
